


Of Darkness, Vampires, and Soulmates

by Kmomof4



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, French Revolution, Magic, Prophecy, Reincarnation, Soulmates, True Love's Kiss, Vampires, black death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:21:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24451270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kmomof4/pseuds/Kmomof4
Summary: The Dark’s minion’s downfall is foretoldWhen True Love’s Kiss doth unfoldBetween soulmates unbound by timeThe blue eyed prince and his golden haired SwanTheir True Love will break the holdAnd Dark magic will be no more.
Relationships: Blue Fairy | Mother Superior/Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Captain Hook | Killian Jones & Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones & Liam Jones, Captain Hook | Killian Jones & Prince Charming | David Nolan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Killian Jones/Ingrid Fisher, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard
Comments: 132
Kudos: 48
Collections: Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2020





	1. Prologue: The Battle Begins

**Author's Note:**

> A/N This fic has been a looooooong time coming. It started as an idea last fall of Vampire Killian rising from the bed where he had just turned Emma, and saying to her “Arise, my love. Join me, forever.” That idea turned into Vampire smut written for recoveringthesatellites birthday last October, which you can find here on ao3 if you’d like to read it. But the more I thought about it, more of a story started to come to me, until I finally decided that since we were going to have one more go round of the CSSNS, I should probably write for it, for once. So Arise, My Love was the jumping off place that birthed this entire fic. Not everything from that has made it into this one, which is why I’ve kept AML up on ao3 as a stand alone fic instead of deleting it. 
> 
> I owe a TREMENDOUS THANK YOU to profdanglais for her stellar beta services, hand holding, and sharing her wealth of knowledge about the French Revolution, and to HollyeLeigh for being my sounding board and brainstorming partner over the many months I’ve been working on this. I would also be remiss if I did not thank the ladies of the CSSNS and CSMovieMarathon discord for their encouragement and their help with selecting a title. And finally to SpartanGuard for her incredible and gorgeous artwork that you can find on Tumblr.
> 
> For the purposes of this fic, much established vampiric lore has been thrown out. My vampires eat, drink, sleep, and have sexual relations just like people do, and they can also go out in the day. There is a major character death in ch1 that can be easily skipped as it will be sectioned off with a full line break.
> 
> The fic is complete and after I post Ch 1 this Sunday, I’ll be updating every Wednesday. I truly hope you enjoy my second true MC and let me know what you think.

Approximately 1000AD

Once Upon a Time…

There was an only son of a Lord. A Lord of wealth and lands. A Lord who was honorable, kind, and true. The son had been taught these same virtues and was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps. However, this son was fascinated by all things dark, magic included. Once he came of age and his parents were gone, he began a careful and diligent study into magic in general and dark magic in particular. The Dark Magic, a nebulous, formless entity that had existed since the dawn of time, became aware of his dedicated explorations and after about a decade of watching from afar, finally approached.

The Darkness had been waiting untold millennia to find a suitable host for itself. Reading with ease the desires of the man’s heart, desires of wealth, power, and long life, and a willingness to do anything to get them, it coalesced, revealing itself to this amateur. It chuckled to itself as it held out everything the naive, novice practitioner of magic ever wanted. All the Darkness wanted in exchange was a host. A host that could physically do all the things that the Darkness longed to do. Blinded by his greed and ambition, Rumplestiltskin easily agreed to what it offered.

When The Reul Ghorm discovered that the Darkness had finally found a host, she took action. Forming a dagger of twisted and dark beauty, she intended to tie the Darkness to the dagger. Once the binding was complete, she planned to kill the host with the implement, destroying the Darkness forever.

She flew into Rumplestiltskin’s chamber, manifesting in her full-size form as the moonlight poured into the room. She approached the bed where he lay and raised the dagger over him. As she recited the incantation over his sleeping form, the Darkness fought back. A veritable tornado blew up in the room, whipping the draperies and anything else not weighted down into a frenzy. Rumplestiltskin’s eyes flew open, the pupils red as the dawn. His mouth opened in a scream that was heard for miles, fangs on prominent display. A thin tendril of darkness emerged from his open mouth and hovered around the blade. The fairy was frightened for the first time in her long existence, but knowing exactly what was at stake, she strengthened her resolve and maintained her grip on the magical instrument. She watched as the tendril was absorbed into the dagger, completing the spell.

The Darkness was tied to the dagger. Rumplestiltskin’s name emblazoned on the shaft confirmed it. Unfortunately, the brief moments that she stared at her handiwork would prove costly.

Before the Blue Fairy could follow through with her intent, Rumplestiltskin leapt from his bed. Waving his hand as the Darkness surged in him, the dagger appeared in his fist and his enemy was thrown across the room. His cackle rang through the chamber as the stunned fairy shook her head, trying to get her bearings about her. He advanced on her holding the dagger aloft, malicious intent in his red eyes.

Blue shook away her disorientation and realized he was speaking to her. Her eyes widened as she comprehended what he said.

“I’d get out of here while you still can, dearie.” She knew the high pitched voice was that of the Darkness. The blood red pupils and exposed fangs set in an almost reptilian hide shimmered in the low light. The horrifying visage sent her heartbeat into even more of a gallop then it was already. “This is mine now, and if you stay, I’m going to carve out your heart with it and feast on your blood.” He waved his hand again, this time at the dark device. Dark magic fell from his hand and enveloped the blade. “And now, no one with magic will be able to even touch it.” His lips drew back into a cruel grin as he continued to stalk toward her.

Finally getting herself together, The Reul Ghorm disappeared with a cascade of light magic just as the demon lunged at her. Releasing a cry of frustrated victory, Rumplestiltskin gloated as he returned to his bed. Knowing exactly where to hide the deadly, and powerful instrument, he waved his hand over it again, sending it to the vault hidden below his castle. Satisfied with himself and the outcome of the confrontation, he lay himself back on his bed and fell into dark dreams.

The battle was far from over, however.


	2. Chapter 1: Killian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we read about Killian's story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: This chapter contains a graphic and possibly disturbing Major Character Death at the hands of a vampire. The scene also contains Non-Con elements. If you need clarification or have any questions before reading, please don't hesitate to message me. The scene can easily be avoided since it is after the full line break toward the end of the chapter. Do what is best for your own mental health.

In the year 1557, all the fairytales we know and love actually happened. Cinderella attended a ball, Sleeping Beauty was awakened by her prince, and Rumplestiltskin spun gold from straw for a poor miller’s daughter in exchange for her first born child.

Two years later, Princess Alice was crooning to her drowsy infant son in his cradle when the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood up and she knew she was no longer alone. An impish, unholy giggle sounded from behind her.

“Oh, Princess,” the demon singsonged, “I’ve come to collect my prize! All the straw in the tower spun into gold in exchange for your firstborn.” The tymber and tone of his voice sent a shiver of pure fear skittering down her spine. She picked up the baby and turned with him now clutched to her chest.

“Please, no,” she begged. The panic she felt was making it difficult to breathe. “How can I give up my child?”

“That is not my problem, dearie,” the imp replied. “Hand him over.” His voice lowered, menacingly, as he stalked towards her. “You do not want to back out of a deal with the Darkness.”

The princess’s face paled. “No, I know,” she agreed, her eyes falling to her sleeping son, oblivious to the tension around him. “But please, there must be something, anything else I can give you… please. I’ll do anything.”

A manic gleam appeared in the monster’s eye. “Anything, hmmm? I do love it when they say that,” he murmured, rubbing his hands together in delight.

“Anything, please,” the princess begged.

Now Rumplestiltskin was a monster of the highest order. The Darkness that he had willingly embraced centuries ago had now so fully possessed him that there was no humanity left in his heart. He would settle on a new victim and visit them over and over, holding out tantalizing deals, the sweetest rewards, for minimal cost. Only to snatch them away at the eleventh hour. There was nothing he loved more than tormenting his victims over months and even years until he could completely drown them in despair before finally closing in for the kill. The broken dreams and loss of hope was the sweetest taste he knew when he finally sank his fangs into tender flesh, leaving drained corpses in his wake.

“Tell you what,” he propounded. “I’ll give you three days. Three days to learn my name. If you succeed, I will renounce my claim on your child.”

“Thank you, thank you!” The princess rejoiced, overjoyed at the reprieve.

What she didn’t know however, is that Rumplestiltskin never made a deal that didn’t end in his favor. No one had spoken his name aloud since he was created over 500 years before. The only way she was going to be able to discover his name was if she found his dagger. The dagger bound to the Darkness that made him what he was. The Dark Dagger.

“I’ll return to you in three days time,” he promised. “If you’ve discovered my name by then, your child will remain with you. If not,” the gleam had returned, “he’s MINE.” The despicable creature disappeared in a cloud of grey smoke.

The moment she was alone, Alice fled from her room until she arrived in her husband’s study. He looked up, alarmed as she sought to bring her breathing under control. Brennan rose and crossed to her, his eyes and bearing filled with concern.

“What is it, my love?” the prince asked, drawing her into his side with one arm while the other hand lightly brushed his son’s head.

Alice looked into the blue eyes she loved so much, the hue of which was also found in the eyes of their child. “He came,” she choked out. “He came for Liam. He said that he’d return in three days time and if I could guess his name, he’d relinquish his claim on our son.”

The princess’s eyes filled with tears as she realized the foolhardiness of agreeing to the demon’s proposal. All she had accomplished was the buying for herself some time. Time to contemplate the inevitable.

“Do not worry, my darling,” her husband soothed his frightened wife. He drew her fully into his arms, stroking her hair. “We’ll summon Blue. The chief of the fairies, and Fairy Godmother to our family. She will tell us what to do. It will be alright, my love.”

~*~*~

“You called, Your Highness?” The fairy hovered in the air before the prince and princess.

“Yes, Blue,” Brennan answered. “We need your help. Our son, our very future is at stake.” The breath caught in his throat as panic threatened to overwhelm him.

“If it is within my power to help, Your Highness, you can be sure, I will,” the fairy assured the frightened couple. With a bow of her head, she motioned for the prince to continue.

“Two years ago, you are aware, a bargain was struck between our fathers?” The fairy nodded. “The obligation on both sides was fulfilled. Alice produced gold from nothing more than straw, and she was given to me in marriage.” He turned affectionate eyes upon his bride. “What I didn’t know then, and what Alice revealed to me before our nuptials, is that she didn’t possess the magic at all. She had made a deal with a demon. He is the one who spun the straw into gold, but for the price of her first born.” He swallowed heavily, his fearful eyes turning back to the fairy before him. “She didn’t want me to marry her under false pretenses. Or at all, as much as she cared for me as well. She shared the price with me and revealed that she planned to never marry, thus never bearing a child for the demon to take.” He again turned his eyes upon the woman at his side. “But her revelation held no bearing for me. Alice had already captured my heart from the first moment I saw her. Nothing would stop me from making her mine.”

Alice’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink as she turned tender and loving eyes upon her husband. “But now the time has come for the price to be paid,” the princess added, still looking at her love. “The imp appeared in our chamber earlier to claim his, ‘prize’ he called him.” Her voice caught on a sob. “He called our _child,_ a _prize._ ” Brennan pulled his wife into his arms as her tears fell. He turned worried eyes upon the fairy.

“He gave the princess three days. Three days to guess his name. If she succeeded, Liam will be saved. If not, he will belong to the Darkness. Can you help us?” he begged.

Blue released a breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding. When the Darkness was mentioned, she knew exactly to whom the prince and princess were referring.

“Yes, Your Highness, I can,” she declared to the royals before her. “The demon you made a bargain with is something with which I am well acquainted. He was once a man. A man obsessed with dark magic. The Darkness tempted him with everything he had ever wanted and in exchange, he readily agreed to act as host to it. I tried to intervene,” the fairy bowed her head in shame, “but I failed.” She shook her head in resolution. “But I can at least thwart him now.” Her eyes hardened with purpose as she stared at the couple. “His name is Rumplestiltskin.”

~*~*~

**Three days later**

Prince Brennan strode purposefully down the hallway, accompanied by his guards, towards his chambers that he shared with his beloved. Turning toward the men who followed, he spoke. “We do not know when the demon will appear. It could be anytime between now and nightfall. Remain outside the chamber until I call for you. I don’t expect that it will simply give up and disappear when the princess reveals her knowledge.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the guard replied, as the prince reached the door to the chamber.

~*~*~

The princess sat upon her bed, cradling her son in her arms, and singing a lullaby. His blue, blue eyes stared into hers as her sweet voice followed the melody of a song taught to her by her own mother many years ago.

She was trying to keep herself calm as she knew exactly what this day would bring. She anxiously waited for her husband to join them in the room and fervently hoped that he would arrive before the monster did.

Just as she heard Brennan’s footsteps outside the door, the imp appeared in a cloud of smoke and with a wave of his hand, locked the chamber door from the inside, making sure that the prince would be unable to enter.

~*~*~

The men outside the door heard the telltale clank of the huge bolt locking into place preventing the prince from entering the room. The manic giggle from the inside of the room sent Brennan into a frenzied panic.

“Nooooooo,” he screamed. He banged on the door desperately, eyes wild, like a man possessed trying to get to his love. The guard pushed him aside and drew his sword to begin hacking at the solid wood door. But the prince could not be subdued. As the guard continued chopping away at the wood, he resumed banging on it while screaming for the Blue Fairy. “Blue! Blue Fairy! Come to my aid! Rumplestiltskin has returned!” He knew that she was his only hope to get into the room in time. Before the monster took everything he loved away from him.

His heart thundered so loudly in his ears that he nearly missed the urgent directive from the fairy as she suddenly appeared. “Step aside, Your Highness!” she called. The stream of magic from her wand barely missing him, he turned back toward the door as it was blasted open by the force of the white magic.

The monster was nearly to the bed where Alice cowered holding little Liam to her breast. It turned and Brennan nearly skidded to a halt at the terrifying visage the creature bore. Green skin shimmered, blood red eyes gleamed with fury, sharp fangs glinted in the daylight that fell through the open window. “You!” the creature growled as the Blue Fairy flew into the room, her face white in her rage.

An otherworldly voice as deep as the ocean fell from her lips. “This family is under the protection of the Reul Ghorm. Begone monster!” The demon seemed to shrink in on itself and hissed at its nemesis. “You are bound by the deal you made with the princess. She fulfilled the terms of the deal. Go back to where you came from, Demon!”

“You haven’t seen the last of me,” the creature growled. It turned back toward the princess, pointing at the child she held. “He will be mine. You mark my words.” With that declaration, Rumplestiltskin disappeared. Brennan’s relief nearly brought him to his knees as he ran to his sobbing wife and gathered her in his arms. He whispered tender endearments into her hair and pressed kisses to her brow as he held her in his strong arms. After several minutes, the princess’ sobs finally trailed away.

Brennan turned his attention back to the fairy before him. With a gentle nod, Blue spoke. “I’ve done all I can. I’m sure there will come a day when Rumplestiltskin will attempt to fulfill his threat. We must remain vigilant. Guard against that day. Teach Liam about the monster’s dealings with this family. Prepare him. My protection is from the outside, and it has its limits. The protection you provide, Your Highnesses, is from within. There will come a day when you are gone and it will fall to him to take up the readiness on behalf of his family against this demon. If Liam is taught the full extent of this creature, if he is taught to beware, it will go well with him.”

Brennan turned his eyes upon his love. He knew she understood the gravity of the charge laid upon them. “We will, Blue,” Brennan answered. “Thank you.”

Nodding at the couple, The Reul Ghorm diminished and flew away.

~*~*~

Many happy years passed. The couple welcomed a second son and invited eight year old Liam to meet his new baby brother.

“He’s kinda scrawny.” The young lad screwed up his face as he looked at the newborn. The baby opened his eyes and after a moment focused on the face before him. Liam couldn’t help the smile that broke over his countenance. Bringing his finger to lightly brush against his brother’s cheek, he whispered, “Hi, Killian. I’m your big brother, Liam. I’ll always be with you. And we’re gonna be best friends.” The baby turned toward the finger with his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to try and eat it. Liam laughed. “What’s he doing, Papa?”

“He’s hungry, son.” He helped Liam climb off of the bed, and smiled gently at him. “Let’s let Mama feed him and you can come back later for another visit, hmmm?”

“Okay, Papa,” the boy agreed, letting his father lead him out of the room.

What no one saw, what no one sensed, was a shadowy figure in the corner of the room. A figure with blood red eyes and sharp fangs. A figure cloaked in Darkness.

~*~*~

Many more years passed. Rumplestiltskin kept his distance, but watched from afar as the boys grew up. Nursing his hatred and wounded pride as the years rolled along, he watched as the old king passed and the prince and princess who had bested him ascended to the throne. They ruled with equity and kindness toward their subjects and the kingdom thrived.

The boys continued to grow with the younger idolizing the older and copying everything he did. As Liam approached manhood, a plan began to take shape in the mind of the cursed creature.

He would have to be patient. He wouldn’t turn a child. What was the point? He would have to wait nearly another decade before he would even consider putting his plan into action. Then, it was only a matter of getting rid of the Blue Fairy. Just long enough for him to accomplish his purposes. Then vengeance would be his.

~*~*~

Liam’s long stride brought him to the foot of the dais before the throne in just moments. Removing his Captain’s hat, he bowed low before his parents.

“You summoned me, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, Liam,” the king acknowledged. “The Blue Fairy,” he gestured toward the fairy standing on his right, “has brought us word that there is a worrisome gathering of dark magic at the edge of the kingdom. Given the history we have with Rumplestiltskin, we have every reason to believe that he may be gathering his strength and preparing to make good on his threat from when you were a newborn. We don’t want you or your brother anywhere near what may be happening.”

Liam could feel his blood pressure rising along with his ire at his father. “With all due respect, Father,” he was rather proud of the steadiness of his voice, “as Captain of Your Majesty’s flagship, I should be at the front of the potential battle.”

“No!” his father roared, “As the unmarried heir to the throne, we cannot risk it. You and Killian will be traveling to Habsburg Spain to negotiate a treaty. Their forays into the New World could prove very beneficial to the kingdom.”

“But, Father-,” Liam began.

“There is no ‘but’, Liam.” King Brennan’s voice was firm and brokered no argument. “You and your crew are to set sail with the evening tide. Blue will be investigating the disturbance and reporting back to us. By the time you get back, hopefully Rumplestiltskin will have been dealt with and you can live out your days in peace.”

Liam swallowed back his anger and bowed his head in acquiescence. “Yes, Father. I will abide by your command. We sail with the evening tide.” Nodding his head towards his mother and the Blue Fairy, he spun on his heel and left the throne room.

~*~*~

“Captain on deck!” The call rang out as Liam stepped off of the gangplank and greeted his brother.

The brothers grasped forearms before pulling each other into a warm hug. Pulling back, Liam patted Killian on the back . “Good evening, little brother.”

Killian raised an eyebrow at his beloved sibling. “I believe you mean younger brother. What orders from Father?”

Liam’s brow furrowed before he spoke. He turned toward the helm, Killian following closely behind. “We’ve been ordered to Habsburg Spain to negotiate a treaty. Trying to obtain some benefit from their explorations in the New World.”

“Ah, I see,” Killian acknowledged. “Why the downcast face then, brother?”

“Father and the Blue Fairy believe that Rumplestiltskin may be preparing to attack the kingdom. They don’t want us anywhere near it.” He raised his eyes to his brother to see confusion and anger darkening his eyes. “I know, brother.” He placed his hand on Killian’s shoulder. “I feel the same way. But Father said that they couldn’t risk losing either one of us in a war with the demon.”

He felt the tension in his shoulders and the anger in his heart dissipate just a bit at the reasoning behind sending them in the opposite direction from where they desired to serve their King and Father. “I can understand their reasoning, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Aye, brother,” Liam agreed. “But we will serve our king with honor and fulfill the mission that he has sent us on.”

Killian nodded, before turning toward the bow of the ship. “Master Bosun, all hands prepare to set sail.”

“Aye, sir!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian’s eyes snapped open in the dead of night. Unnamed dread trickled down his spine sending shivers to all his extremities. Straining his eyes into the pitch black of his quarters, he called out, “Who’s there?”

He was answered with only a high pitched giggle. A giggle that transformed the dread into stark terror. He was blinded as the lantern in his cabin suddenly sprang to life.

When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, he beheld the monster that he had only heard about or seen in his nightmares when his overactive imagination took his parents words and conjured a monster of his own making. But what he saw before him now, was unlike anything he had ever seen in any of his worst nightmares. He recoiled at the sight of the creature in front of him, eyes the color of blood, dark green skin with a shimmer that made him think of a crocodile, scraggly hair that lay flat against the creatures head, and finally the high pitched giggle again sent Killian scrambling for his sword in its scabbard at the foot of his bed.

In the seconds it took for him to gain his feet and point his cutlass at the demon, questions, suppositions, and finally certainty ran through his brain.

_What is it doing here? Father and the Blue Fairy thought it was at the edge of the kingdom! Why is it HERE, in my quarters? I’m not the heir. Killing me would do nothing to further its aims of revenge against my family. It was a trick! A trick to get us far enough away from the kingdom that Blue’s protection is gone. It’s here for Liam. And for some reason, it’s coming for me first._

As that thought cemented in his mind, Rumplestiltskin disappeared in a cloud of grey smoke. Killian blinked in surprise, momentarily stunned. Once he gathered himself, he tore open the door of his cabin and ran down the hall towards Liam’s, shouting for his brother.

Bursting into the cabin, he was horrified by what he found. Liam appeared reclined at the head of the bed, but the terror in his eyes, stiffness of his body, and unnatural position told Killian that he was not in repose. He realized that the monster was holding Liam up from behind, Liam’s back against its front as blood red eyes met his own over Liam’s shoulder. With a wink and a wave of its hand, Killian was frozen in place as the monster buried his head into Liam’s neck from where it held Liam tightly against him. Blood seeped down his neck from under the creature’s mouth as it fed on his brother. Killian couldn’t even scream his terror and rage in the frozen state in which he found himself. Liam’s hands reached out in front of him, seeking anything to bring him solace in his final moments. Killian couldn’t even close his eyes against the horror of what he saw. He was forced to watch every single moment of his beloved brother’s death. Each moment being seared into his memory. Liam’s eyes on his own, begging him for help that he couldn’t give, the steady paling of his skin as the monster drained every drop, the gurgling breaths from his gaping mouth, Liam’s arms finally dropping down to the bed, his head rolling back onto the beast’s shoulder as it finally released him.

Blood, _Liam’s blood,_ dripped down its chin onto the nightshirt that had already collected stray drops that had leaked when the monster first began to feed. Rumplestiltskin pushed the lifeless body off of him so that Liam was unceremoniously dumped on the floor of his own cabin, his sightless eyes staring at the ceiling. Killian was still unable to shut his eyes against the gruesome sight, but he could feel his own tears gathering in them. A lump formed in his throat that he was helpless to swallow down. The beast stalked toward him, with a manic triumph shining in its red eyes.

“And now, dearie,” the monster giggled again, “for the other part of my plan. What better way to utterly destroy the kingdom than to take both its heir and the spare?” It giggled again, clapping its hands together with glee.

Killian’s tongue was finally loosened and he spat at the vile creature, hatred and fury blazing in his eyes. “Go on then, monster, kill me,” he screamed, his body still frozen in place.

“Oh, no dearie,” the demon replied, “death is not for you. I have other plans for you.” The imp posed before Killian with his clawed finger tapping a rhythm against its chin, as if it were thinking. “I have waited _years_ to be able to enact my plan against your family, you see. And I intend to fully savor my victory.” It stalked toward him again, raising its wrist to its mouth and slicing open the vein there. Killian would have counted it a blessing if he could have lost consciousness at that moment as realization began to dawn of what the monster had planned. It raised its wrist to Killian’s face and let its blood fill his mouth. He tried to spit it out, but the overwhelming flood proved to be too much. After just a couple of swallows, Rumplestiltskin took the wrist away and healed it with a wave of the other hand. The demented grin on its face and the coppery taste of blood on his tongue made Killian want to throw up.

The beast wrestled him into its iron embrace and sank its teeth into his neck, Killian still powerless to fight against the creature. His scream that was working its way out of him was abruptly cut off as the mind of his tormentor filled his own with the darkest of imaginings, the most vile judgements, the most depraved desires. Trying with all his might to push against the images that filled his mind’s eye, he could feel his heartbeat starting to slow. In his mind, he thrashed and fought against what he knew was happening to him. _Is this what Liam felt?_ A weakness and utter exhaustion spread through his frozen limbs. He could hear his heartbeat slowing… slowing… until he finally realized that he had not heard his heart beat in nearly a full minute, if he was accurate in his reckoning.

The demon released him both from its embrace and the magical imprisonment in which it had held him. Killian collapsed onto the floor, helpless to do anything but moan. His eyes finally shut against the terrifying visage that loomed over him. But he could not close his ears.

“We are connected now,” the monster boasted, “you and me. I’ll always be able to find you. You’ll never be able to get away from me.”

“I’ll kill you,” Killian slurred, his eyes remaining shut. “Even demons can be killed. I will find a way.”

“Well, good luck with that, dearie,” it taunted, before a _swoosh_ told him that the beast had left him alone.

A keening wail that came from the depths of his being, spread through every extremity and finally burst from his mouth at the horror that he had just witnessed and been subjected to. Finally opening his eyes and crawling toward his dead brother as the physical agony of his body dying tore through him, tears of blood fell to the planks below. But the blood of the demon in his system would keep him alive and make him into the very same creature. The creature that he hated to the depths of his soul. The creature that he swore vengeance upon.

Gathering Liam’s body in his arms, he cried out his pain and despair into the emptiness of the cabin. Burying his face into the shoulder of his brother, his hero, his whole world, he swore, “I will avenge you, Liam. I will kill that bloody monster, if it’s the last thing I ever do.”


	3. Ch.2 Emma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we meet Emma for the first time in 1650 London.

**1650 London**

With a final agonized scream, the raven haired woman collapsed against the pillows piled at the head of the bed as the cries of a newborn filled the room. Granny smiled down at the scrunched up face she held in her hands. The rest of the child’s body followed. “It’s a girl, Mary Margaret.”

The young woman laughed weakly as Granny held her daughter up for her to see. “You were right, Granny,” she breathed.

“Well of course, I was right,” she replied, indignant. With quick, efficient movements Granny cleaned the baby up and wrapped her in a soft blanket that she had just finished crocheting a few days before. “That charm has been handed down in my family for generations and it’s never been wrong.”

The strong blonde man who had been waiting outside came running into the room just as the old midwife handed a small bundle wrapped in the white blanket to the exhausted but smiling woman reclined against the pillows. Making his way over to the bed, he placed a tender kiss on her temple. He reached around her shoulders to draw her into his side and looked down into the cloudy gray eyes that stared back at him. “It’s a girl, David,” his wife whispered, smiling up at him.

Granny’s normally no nonsense exterior melted at the sight of the young family as she took in the tender moment. Mary Margaret sat reclined on the bed with her husband’s arm around her as he stroked the crown of the nursing baby.

“Oh look,” whispered David in surprise, “Look at the birthmark. On her neck.”

“It looks like a swan in flight,” Granny said, nodding. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen a birthmark with as clear a shape as that.”

Mary Margaret raised herself slightly from the pillow to look down at her daughter before flopping back again, her eyes glazing over with weariness. “Wow,” she said on a breathy exhale as she lost her battle with fatigue.

“Certainly appropriate, with our name.” David chuckled then leaned in and again kissed his wife’s temple. “Thank you for everything Granny. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

Granny scoffed, waving aside his sentiment. “You would have been fine, David,” she asserted, “You’ve got yourself a fine, strong woman there and a good, level head on your shoulders. You would have figured out something.” She came closer and watched fondly as the baby continued to suckle, oblivious to her worn out mother. “Now, the room is yours for as long as you need it.” She waved away his objection just as he was opening his mouth. “David, I have work for you that will more than adequately compensate me for your room and board. Mary Margaret needs to rest. It’s no easy feat to bring a child into this world.” She turned her attention to the dozing woman. “See?” she questioned him. “She’ll need to stay right there taking care of this little one for several days, at least. Once she’s up and around, I can use her too. I’m getting too old for this, and Ruby isn’t old enough to take over for me.”

David closed his mouth, stunned, as he realized exactly what Granny was offering him and his family. “Are you saying that we can stay here? Permanently?” he asked, incredulous.

“Of course, I am,” the matronly woman acknowledged with a smile. “Harold, God rest his soul, would never forgive me if I put your family out on the streets. Especially this little one.” She bent down and pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead.

David’s shoulders slumped in relief and acceptance. “Thank you, Granny,” his voice caught with emotion, “I can’t tell you how much that means.”

“You just take care of your family,” the old woman gruffed, “That is payment enough.”

Granny looked fondly at the sleeping mother and baby before slipping out of the room.

~*~*~

Pirate captain Killian Jones entered his cabin, weariness hanging about him like a cloak. It was the first time in three days that he had seen the inside of his quarters. Ever since a storm the likes of which he had never seen came upon the ship that he had called home ever since Rumplestiltskin had murdered his brother and turned him into the cursed creature he was now. He had little doubt that the monster was behind the storm. The suddenness with which it blew up and the ferocity he and his men had battled for days all spoke to the magical, _dark_ magical, attributes of the storm. Ever since Rumplestiltskin left him alone on the floor of this very cabin over 60 years before, he had delighted in returning every so often, taunting and tormenting him. The only reason Killian could come up with is that the monster just wanted to remind him of their connection and that, so far, he had failed in his vow to destroy him.

They had now, finally, left the storm behind them. Killian stripped down to just his leather pants, hanging his coat, waistcoat, and shirt on various furnishings in the cabin to dry. Sitting down at his desk, he pulled off his boots and socks. Once he sufficiently dried himself, he pulled down his logbook to record the battle with the storm. As he flipped to the next empty page, his eyes and thoughts skimmed over previous entries covering many years.

_The attempt, at first, to hide his new nature from his crew, until the overwhelming bloodlust took over and he attacked and killed one of his men._

_The mutiny that was spawned because of his lack of control. When faced with the anger, and yes, fear, of his once loyal crew, Killian’s rage at his helplessness against his fate and their perceived audacity completely filled him until he attacked them, leaving the entire crew dead at his feet._

Killian sneered as the next entry and memory paraded itself across his mind’s eye. _Watching from afar as his parents frantically searched for not only their beloved sons, but also the Blue Fairy. He would assume, given her magic, that she was aware of what had happened to him and his brother. She apparently couldn’t reveal to the king and queen just how utterly and completely she had failed in her duty to protect the family from Rumpelstiltskin. So when she left their presence and saw what had happened to Liam and Killian, she disappeared as well._

_Finally gaining enough control over the bloodlust that he was able to take on a new crew._

_The ensuing decades that were his darkest, both as a pirate and as a vampire. He refused to feed on his crew, that could get expensive quickly, but his own self-loathing and impotence in the face of his nature were enough to unleash the, literally, bloodthirsty pirate that was always just under the surface, the bloodlust licking at his veins. When they captured merchant ships, Killian led his crew in wholesale slaughter, gorging himself on the still warm blood of their adversaries, as his men transferred the loot to the Jolly. Once he was sated, he used his powers of compulsion and persuasion to make his crew believe that when they were dumping the drained corpses overboard, they were simply disposing of rotted food._

_Watching as his parents grew old with no heir until they passed and the throne went to the son of Brennan’s younger brother._

Finally turning to the last entry, his eyes drifted over lines that he knew he didn’t write.

_The Dark’s minion’s downfall is foretold_

_When True Love’s Kiss doth unfold_

_Between soulmates unbound by time_

_The blue eyed prince and his golden haired Swan_

_Their True Love will break the hold_

_And Dark magic will be no more._

Killian’s brows furrowed as he read the lines again. _Dark’s minion? Dark magic no more? Is it talking about Rumplestiltskin? The blue eyed prince and his golden haired Swan? Soulmates? What does all this mean?_ The confusion he felt as he pored over the words yet again continued to grow. _Who wrote this? How did it get here? Would one of my crew dare to enter my cabin without my knowledge and permission, much less write in my logbook?_

_His_ last entry was from three days before. So _someone_ had made this entry at some point _during_ the storm. But no matter how many times he read the words or tried to figure out answers to his questions, he couldn’t make any sense of the entry in his journal. Shaking his head, he determined to put it out of his mind and concentrate on the recording of the storm.

Many hours later, while Captain Killian Jones slept, the Blue Fairy materialized in the cabin and waved her wand over the sleeping man. With the white magic that settled on him, she knew that when he woke, he would have no memory of the prophecy recorded in his journal. Not until the proper time. Not until the blue eyed prince met his golden haired Swan.

~*~*~

Killian Jones entered the inn and stamped his nearly frozen feet on the threshold as he shivered under his traveling cloak. Anger licked his veins as he made his way over to the blazing fire in the hearth to warm himself after his trek from the London Pool where his ship was docked. He was chasing down a lead that was supposed to give him information on a possible way to destroy Rumplestiltskin. Whispers and rumors had reached him about an instrument that might be capable of killing the monster and freeing him from the Darkness that coursed through him. Unfortunately, that lead had proved fruitless.

A young woman with sunshine in her hair hurried over to him at the hearth with a pint of ale. “May I take your cloak, sir,” she asked.

“Aye, lass,” he replied. “Thank you.” Too distracted to take real notice of the young woman, he handed her his cloak and sat down at a nearby table. She returned moments later with a bowl of hot stew that smelled divine. The months at a time being out to sea made fresh, hot food all the more welcome when making port.

He looked up into the girl’s face and was captivated by the green eyes that skittered away from his once he caught them. As she turned away from him and headed back towards the kitchen, _something_ came over him. Something that he hadn’t experienced in decades. The bloodlust that he had under control for over 70 years completely took him by surprise. He felt his fangs snap into place and a red haze descended over his sight, telling him that his pupils were red as blood. He bowed his head toward his meal until he had himself under control again, eyes blue as the summer sky and fangs retracted.

He looked up again and scanned the room he found himself in. Just like every other tavern he’d ever frequented, he found a large and cheerful hearth keeping the frigid cold of the freak London snowstorm at bay. Over to his left, he saw stairs leading up to the rooms for rent for weary travelers. The door opened again with more pushing their way through, seeking the warmth the inn offered. To the right of the door, the counter with the kitchen behind was bustling with the girl going back and forth between the counter and the blonde man behind it and the tables that the newcomers settled at.

Unfortunately, they had settled only a single table away from him and every time the girl came to attend to them, the bloodlust washed over him again. He concentrated even harder on the meal set before him, wrestling himself back under control when she approached him again.

“Is everything alright, sir,” she asked, “Would you like some fresh bread to go with the stew? Granny is just taking some out of the oven…” she trailed away as his eyes met hers again. He was gratified to see that there was nothing but curiosity and openness in her gaze. He had obviously been successful in keeping his true nature hidden from her.

“Aye, lass,” he answered her, “that would be lovely.” She turned away from him and as she did, he noticed the swan birthmark on her neck. A swan in flight.

_The blue eyed prince and his golden haired Swan_

A completely forgotten line from a completely forgotten journal entry he had found many years ago. Could this girl be the golden haired Swan? And he could only conclude that he must be the blue eyed prince. He sat, completely gobsmacked as he watched the girl approach his table again with several hunks of freshly baked bread on the tray she carried. She stopped at the other occupied tables, lightening her load every time, before she carried on toward him. Arriving, he couldn’t help but take a deep inhale, noting the aroma of the bread as well as the scent of _her,_ just to make sure that the bloodlust was firmly back under his control.

“Thank you again, lass,” he drawled. “Please conduct my sincere compliments to the cook of this delicious meal. Whom should I speak to about procuring lodging for the night? I’m not inclined to go back out into that until it clears up a bit.”

Her eyes shot toward the door as it swung open yet again, letting in the largest crowd yet, along with the blustery wind and snow. “That is very true, sir,” she acknowledged. “The weather is fit for neither man nor beast. My father is behind the counter. He’s the one you should speak to.”

“Thank you. I shall do that as soon as I finish my meal,” he declared, tucking into the food before him yet again.

He used the last bite of bread to soak up the last of the broth from the stew before rising from his table and making his way toward the counter with the blonde man behind it. “Good evening, sir,” Killian called as he approached.

“Good evening,” the man replied. “I hope you enjoyed my wife’s stew and Granny’s bread.”

“Undoubtedly, sir,” he rejoined, “It’s been many a month since I’ve partaken of a meal as satisfying as the one I just enjoyed.” He leaned across the counter with his hand extended toward the man. “Captain Killian Jones.”

“Ah,” the man exclaimed, taking Killian’s outstretched hand. “I wondered if perhaps you were a seafaring man. David Swan. How else may I help you?”

It was all he could do to keep his face from showing his complete and utter surprise at the confirmation of his earlier thoughts. “A pleasure to meet you, David,” he answered, pointing back toward the door of the inn. “I’d rather prefer to not have to leave until the weather clears up. Might you have a room available until it does?”

“We do indeed,” he affirmed. “Emma?”

“Yes, Papa,” the girl answered, approaching the counter again.

“Would you please see that room 2 is ready for Captain Jones here,” he asked his daughter.

Killian reached out toward Emma, palm up, in a gesture of invitation. She lay her own hand in his own before he lifted it to place a small kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you for the excellent service and meal tonight, Miss Emma. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Yours as well, Captain,” she replied, with a slight curtsey, “I’ll just go see to your room. I’ll return shortly.”

Killian watched her walk away, his thoughts in complete turmoil. Shaking his head and returning his attention to her father, he scratched behind his ear as he took in David’s broad smile. “She’s nearly sixteen and would make a fine wife for a sea captain before too much longer.” David answered his unasked question.

Scratching furiously in nervousness, Killian repeated, “So, she’s 15, hmm?” He swallowed around the sizable lump in his throat as a petite black haired woman whose temples were just dusted with frost joined them at the counter.

She turned her eyes upon David with a slight reprimand in them before turning her gaze upon Killian. _Green, just like Emma’s. Must be her mother._ Killian extended his hand toward the woman, just as he had moments before with the young woman. Brushing his lips across her knuckles, he introduced himself again. “Captain Killian Jones, milady, at your service.”

“My wife, and Emma’s mother, Mary Margaret Swan,” David introduced them.

“It’s my honor,” Killian murmured, sincerely. “If I’m not mistaken, I have you to thank for the stew I partook of this evening?”

Mary Margaret’s cheeks tinged a light pink. “Oh, it was nothing, Captain,” she deflected, “I’m so pleased you enjoyed it.”

“I truly did,” he affirmed. “I was just telling your husband that after many months at sea, a hot, fresh meal is greatly appreciated.”

Emma approached the counter again. “Your room is ready, Captain Jones. If you’ll follow me please.”

With a slight bow to David and Mary Margaret and wishes from both sides for a pleasant evening, Killian followed Emma to his room.

~*~*~

It was nearly a fortnight later before the snow had melted enough for Killian to leave the inn. During the time he had spent with them, he had become quite good friends with the Swan family. He was careful to keep the rapidity with which he was losing his head over Emma hidden as he became her constant companion in her leisure time. Which admittedly, wasn’t much. David and Mary Margaret didn’t have any objection to his obvious affinity for their daughter, and he had even managed to win over the matriarch of the family, Granny. Being in such close quarters with Emma was an exercise in self control such that he had never had to endure before. But, in the end, he had been successful in keeping his true nature from the happy family. The puzzling questions concerning the journal entry still plagued him, but he thought that perhaps, with his new certainty of who Emma was, he might be able to figure out what the rest of it meant.

Entering his cabin, Killian immediately pulled down his logbook and flipped to the page containing the riddle. He hadn’t thought of it since the evening after the storm, fifteen years before. _Right about the time Emma would have been born,_ he thought. But upon seeing her birthmark and introducing himself to David, it had never been far from his mind. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to recall most of the words, so as soon as the snow was melted sufficiently, he rushed to the _Jolly_ to look at the journal again.

_The Dark’s minion’s downfall is foretold_

_When True Love’s Kiss doth unfold_

_Between soulmates unbound by time_

_The blue eyed prince and his golden haired Swan_

_Their True Love will break the hold_

_And Dark magic will be no more._

Killian stared at the words before him, wrestling with them in his mind, trying to make sense out of them.

_The Dark’s minion’s downfall is foretold_

_Foretold, that means prophecy. The Dark. The Darkness? The Darkness that makes him, makes me, what I am? The Dark’s minion? If the Darkness is what makes us, then Rumplestiltskin must be its minion. Downfall is foretold. He will fall when True Love’s Kiss occurs between soulmates, the blue eyed prince and his golden haired Swan. Me and Emma. Unbound by time. What does that mean?_ Killian shook his head. He hadn’t a clue. _Their True Love will break the hold and Dark magic will be no more. That sounds like True Love’s Kiss between me and Emma will destroy the Darkness. Then Rumplestiltskin can be destroyed._ A sinister smile broke across his face. _At last our tales will again intertwine. Revenge will be mine._

He could feel the anger and hatred rising within him, nearly triggering a blood frenzy within him. There was no way he could return to the inn with the bloodlust this close to the surface. He closed his eyes and willed himself back under control. He needed to get word to his crew and get as far away from here as he could. If Emma was his True Love, and the two of them were needed to destroy the Darkness and Rumplestiltskin, he had to get as far away from Emma as possible if he wanted to keep her and her family safe. If Rumplestiltskin were to find out about her, find out about her family, he wouldn’t hesitate to destroy them. He had to keep her safe. Safe from him. And safe from _him._ He’d come back for brief visits in the future, until she was a little bit older and ready for him to court and marry her. A sudden certainty came over him that if he wanted to court her, if he wanted to be worthy of her, his days of slaughter on the high seas and persuasion and compulsion on his crew were at an end. He couldn’t continue to take their free will from them as his sire had taken his. Satisfied with his plans, he pulled out a sheet of parchment and began penning a missive to Emma and her family.

~*~*~

**Six months later**

Killian made his way through the streets of London with an arm raised to his face, trying to block the putrid smell that came from the devastating effects of the Black Death that was ravaging the continent and had made its way to England’s shores. He could only hope and pray that Emma and her family had not suffered any loss due to the epidemic. The heat mingled with the stench of death made for a rancid bouquet that was causing his last meal to roll within him, wanting to revolt. He finally reached the inn and made his way inside. Getting out of the blazing heat of the sun overhead and the stink from the rampant disease was such a relief, that he wanted to weep. But before he could collapse, his eyes caught the gaze of his friend behind the counter. A gaze that held unspeakable despair and immense pain. Killian’s greeting and smile died on his lips before he could utter a word.

He knew his Swan’s family had not been spared.

Emma’s birthday had come and gone while he’d been at sea, and he now felt that the time was right to formally court her and make her his bride.

That hope for the future was shattered, however when David’s head slowly shook from side to side. He knew who Killian would be most anxious to see upon his arrival, but it was plain to see that he couldn’t bring himself to utter the words. David came around the counter to embrace his friend. A wail of misery that came from the depths of his being threatened to consume him, but he clenched his jaw against it.

“When?” he gritted out.

“Nine days.” David’s voice broke on a whisper. Drawing away from him, Killian tried to curl himself into a ball as the wail continued to try and break free.

David reached around his shoulders and drew him upright again as he led him toward the back of the inn. Pushing through the door back into the heat, dizziness overtook him as he looked at the three graves just a few feet from the door.

“Granny went first. She died in April,” David choked out. “We thought that we’d been spared, since no one else came down with it right away.” Killian could feel the blood tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He kept his focus on the ground before him as David continued to speak. “Mary Margaret became ill seventeen days ago, and almost the same hour that I lost her, Emma was stricken. I couldn’t bear to leave my beautiful Mary Margaret to decay, so I dug her grave next to Granny. Granny was the only mother my Mary Margaret ever knew.”

Killian chanced a brief glance at the grieving man beside him. The anguish painted there, left his skin with a grey pallor.

“Did I ever tell you our story?” David pressed on, without waiting for his answer. “I came from a family of shepherds. My mother passed when my youngest sister was born. I was seven. Mary Margaret lived in the nearby village and had always been kind to me when I came into town. But the man she called Father, was the most despicable of men. He was a slave to drink. Never satisfied with the work she did to maintain their household, constantly harassing her, beating her for no reason. She had finally worked up the courage to leave his house when he collapsed with wracking coughs. He was dead within days. She was sixteen. For some reason, she came to me. I could never understand why. She said it was because I made her feel safe. That when he would beat her, she’d picture my face and she’d be able to endure it.” He paused, shaking his head. “But, why me? Wouldn’t anyone else have helped her? I didn’t do anything anybody else wouldn’t have done…” He shook himself from his rambling memories and continued their story. “After knowing each other most of our lives, it didn’t take us long to fall in love. When we couldn’t hide Mary Margaret’s pregnancy anymore, my father kicked us out. We came to London to try to find a better life and Granny took us in. Only three weeks before Emma was born. Granny delivered her. It seemed only fitting that they should all be together in death.”

David fell silent. Killian could no longer hold back his tears. He collapsed to the ground, desperate to hide his face and the blood pouring down his cheeks from his friend, gasping sobs breaking free. David stood beside him, silent tears coursing down his own cheeks, letting Killian’s grief find a safe outlet that wouldn’t be contained or interrupted. When the barking sobs subsided to quiet weeping, David patted his friend on the shoulder.

“I’ll go prepare your room. Stay out here as long as you need.” He turned toward the door and disappeared inside.

Finally alone, Killian raised his blood streaked face to look at the graves before him. His golden haired Swan was gone. The woman he loved, his _soulmate,_ was gone. _What am I going to do now?_


	4. Ch. 3 The Family Desmoulins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over a century has passed and Killian finds his way to Pre-Revolutionary France.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: While the chateau is made up, the description is based off of the Chateau de Montsoreau in the Loire Valley of France.

**1786 France**

Killian was finally making his way toward Paris after an inexplicable longing to come to the city had overtaken him while at sea ten years before. In his day, Paris had been one of the most prominent cities in all of Europe, but due to the religious wars between Catholics and Protestants, he and Liam had never been to the city. Why this compulsion had come upon him so unexpectedly, he had no idea. However, other priorities had prevented him from acting on that desire for many years. As the years passed, and the preoccupation wouldn’t leave him, he eventually found himself docking in Marseille and turning his face toward Paris. He was about a day’s ride outside the city, when he stopped at a small village in the Loire valley for the night. Once he settled down in his bed, memories he hadn’t thought of in years poured over him.

_After discovering his Swan’s death, he stayed with David, doing what he could to help and support his friend in their mutual loss. By the fall, David wanted to leave London to see how the rest of his family had fared during the outbreak. Returning to the family farm, David discovered that his father had passed not long after he and Mary Margaret had left, and that his siblings had not survived the dreaded disease. As much as losing Mary Margaret and Emma had affected him, with the knowledge that the only family he had left in this world were a few nieces and nephews that he had never known and their families, Killian was not at all surprised when he finally came down with and succumbed to the pestilence upon returning to London. With the blood tears in his eyes, Killian laid his friend to rest beside his beloved Mary Margaret, Emma, and Granny. Saying a quiet prayer over the family that he had come to think of as his own, Killian turned away and left London, never to return. Arriving back on the continent, he had wandered aimlessly for a few years, before the call of the sea again drew him back to his beloved Jolly Roger and life on the open water._

Why these memories crashed over him now, Killian couldn’t tell. He fell into dreams with the blood tears in his eyes.

~*~*~

After staying in the village for two weeks waiting on a new wardrobe, Killian awoke to bright sunlight pouring into his room. Rising from his bed, he made his way over to the wash basin near the door and splashed the cool water on his face. After dressing, he came down the stairs of the inn and greeted the proprietor.

“Good morning,” he said, seating himself at a table. A bar wench laid the standard breakfast, consisting of bol de cafe, a large cup of coffee with milk, and pain au lait, a rich breakfast bread, before him and hurried away. He dove into the hearty meal as he planned out his day. Upon arriving in the village, he decided that before heading into the city, it’d be prudent to obtain some new clothes. He may not be a prince anymore, but he thought it’d probably be better to be taken for a member of the nobility rather than a rogue and a scoundrel that his pirate attire attested to. Gold, for a pirate captain, wasn’t a problem, so he had ordered a completely new wardrobe. And today was the day it would be ready. He meandered down the center of the village, simply enjoying the cool spring morning and the sunshine. He could just see beyond the simple buildings in the town to the surrounding green landscape of the valley. The beauty was enough to take his breath away.

As he arrived at the tailor’s, a petite noblewoman, dressed in a gown of burgundy silk that brought out the hints of auburn the sunlight gave her dark hair, was just stepping down from her carriage. He held the door open for her as her eyes took in his appearance.

After a brief nod, she swept past him through the door. He followed her in to see her speaking animatedly to the tailor’s apprentice.

“No, young man,” the condescension dripping from the woman’s lips raised Killian’s ire. There wasn’t much in this world that made him angrier than people thinking themselves above others. “I have no objection to you showing me new fabrics and so on, but I must insist on your master being the one to take my measurements and personally make my dress. This is for a party at Versailles.” Killian may have once been a prince, but from his earliest days, his father had taught him the value of working among and serving the people of their kingdom. That everyone, regardless of station, was made in the image of God and was deserving of honor and respect. The difference between the attitude of the royal family in his kingdom and the nobility of France astounded him.

“Yes, Vicomtesse,” the man acquiesced. “But Monsieur Marco will be occupied for the next hour or so, outfitting the Prince d’Épinoy,” he gestured at Killian, “in the wardrobe that he has prepared.” The woman turned toward him with a more appraising eye this time than what she had bestowed on him earlier.

“Oh, don’t mind me, August,” Killian began, swallowing his anger, “I’m in no hurry. I can wait while Monsieur Marco takes Vicomtesse…” he trailed away, holding his hand out in invitation toward the woman.

“Vicomtesse Desmoulins,” the woman answered, placing her gloved hand into his. He raised it to his lips and brushed them along her knuckles.

“While Monsieur Marco takes Vicomtesse Desmoulins’ measurements,” he repeated.

The woman’s high cheekbones flushed pink with his declaration, and she dropped her eyes. “Prince?” she asked, a little breathlessly.

“Aye,” he replied, “At your service, Madame.”

“Thank you so much for your concession, Monseigneur,” she cooed before turning back toward August. “Well?” she questioned the young man again, “Where is Monsieur Marco? I insist on seeing him at once! I’m on a bit of a schedule.”

“R-R-Right away, Vicomtesse,” he stammered, turning toward the back of the shop. Killian stood stoically, his internal displeasure at the Vicomtesse’s attitude well hidden. As soon as August had departed behind the curtain, she turned toward him again. This time with an appraising glint in her eye that Killian didn’t appreciate one bit.

“So what brings you to our fair village, Monseigneur,” she purred, moving closer to him. Killian prided himself on being a good judge of character, even before his meeting Rumplestilskin. And now, living as long as he had, that skill had only been honed further. There was no doubt in his mind that the woman before him was a siren, beautiful to look at, and yet deadly if you get too close. Not wholly unlike himself.

“I’m on my way to Paris, Vicomtesse,” he answered her, with a small bow of his head, holding his ground. “I’ve never visited and I thought it was time to change that.”

“Oh, yes, Paris,” she exclaimed dreamily, “Then I must insist on you coming and spending some time at our Chateau Havre-de-brume before joining us at Versailles. I’m sure that I could secure you a place at court.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Killian tried to protest.

She waved away his objection. “Oh, nonsense,” she pooh-poohed. “It’s the least I can do after you so graciously allowed me to see Monsieur Marco first about my measurements. We leave for Versailles in a week’s time and you can join us at the Chateau until then, then travel with us to court.” It was clear that the woman was accustomed to getting what she wanted, and Killian was finding it difficult to contain his amusement at her assumptions. _If only she knew exactly WHAT she was inviting into her home,_ he chuckled under his breath. “We will expect you this afternoon at 4 for tea, Monseigneur. Dinner will be served at 9 precisely.”

Just at that moment, Monsieur Marco came out from behind the curtain. “August informs me that you’re willing to wait for me to measure Vicomtesse Desmoulins before collecting your wardrobe, Sieur.” Killian nodded at the old man. “Very well, I’ll be ready for you after 2.”

“Until then, Monsieur,” he said, with a bow. “Vicomtesse Desmoulins, I’ll be pleased to join you at your home when I’ve concluded my business with Monsieur Marco.” With another bow toward the Vicomtesse, he spun on his heel, and left the shop.

~*~*~

Killian dismounted his horse later that afternoon and handed the reins along with a brief introduction to the lad that waited to attend to him in front of the Chateau Havre-de-brume, not far from the village. After seeing Monsieur Marco about his wardrobe, he had returned to the inn, changed into his new attire, and departed for the Chateau. He had no objection to spending a week with Vicomtesse Desmoulins and her family if it gave him a free place to stay and would make his entrance into Paris and the court of King Louis XVI easier.

A servant wearing the livery of the chateau opened the door. “The Prince d’Épinoy, I presume?” he asked.

“Yes, my good man.” Killian said with a small bow.

“Vicomtesse Desmoulins has been expecting you. Follow me please.” He turned from the door and led the way to a spiral staircase. Killian couldn’t help but notice the excellent stonework and ornamentation that lent an air of beauty and leisure to the chateau as he followed the servant onto the main floor and into the salon where his hostess waited. The salon was extremely large with huge fireplaces on either end of the room to keep the spring chill at bay. The large windows flooded the room with light as he approached the Vicomtesse, flanked by who could only be her husband and daughter.

“Ah, Monseigneur the Prince d’Épinoy,” she began, “allow me to introduce you to my husband, Vicomte Desmoulins and my older daughter, Regina.”

Killian gave a small bow of his head as he reached out his hand to greet the much older man, by appearance anyway, before him. “A pleasure to meet you, Vicomte.” He turned toward the young lady on the other side of his hostess. The beautiful young woman dropped into a curtsey before laying her hand in Killian’s outstretched one as he bowed over it, brushing his lips over the back of her hand.

Her cheeks flushed with pleasure as her eyes skittered away from his piercing blue gaze. The assessing gaze of her mother had a small smile ghosting across his lips as he straightened again before them. He had no doubt that the Vicomtesse was already contemplating a match between him and her daughter. She couldn’t be much younger than what he appeared to be- eighteen, nineteen, twenty at most.

“Please, be seated, Monseigneur,” his hostess invited. “Tea will be served momentarily.”

As Killian settled down where the Vicomtesse indicated and the Vicomte and Regina took their seats, the doors burst open when a girl of about nine or ten came blowing in with the force of a whirlwind, followed by a rather short and rotund woman clucking her tongue at the child.

“Maman, Papa,” she cried, “Johanna said that I couldn’t join you for tea today! Oh,” she exclaimed, as Killian turned toward her. “I- I’m sorry, Maman, I didn’t realize we had company.” She curtsied before him and Killian felt his mouth go dry. It was Emma. It was his golden haired Swan. Obviously younger than she was when he knew her, but the features were the same. The high cheekbones, rosebud mouth, button nose and pert chin, not to mention the long blonde hair and green eyes. _But, how?_ Snapping his jaw shut, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the child. As she rose from her curtsey, her mother motioned the child to her side.

Gathering her in her arms, the Vicomtesse spoke gently to her. “This is Monseigneur the Prince d’Épinoy. You may call him Monseigneur.” Addressing Killian again, she continued, “Allow me to present my younger daughter, Emma.”

Dumbfounded, Killian extended his hand toward Emma. “It is a pleasure, Mademoiselle.”

“Generally, she would not join us for tea when we have visitors,” she gave a slightly disapproving look to her daughter, who looked sheepish in return while cutting her eyes toward her gouvernante, “but since she is already here, she may join us. Just this once.” She smiled indulgently, as Emma’s face broke into a grin to rival the sun.

Killian desperately tried to keep his turbulent thoughts hidden, as the tea was served. _Soulmates unbound by time._ Since his time in London, he had memorized every word of the prophecy and so easily recalled the line that had baffled him a century ago. He cut his eyes at Emma as she settled herself in her own seat. If he needed any further confirmation, he got it when he spied the birthmark on her neck. The same birthmark she had in her first life back in London. It was a second chance. _They_ could have a second chance. He would have to bide his time until she was of marriageable age, but remembering what happened the last time he left her, he was reluctant to go that route. On the other hand, he had to keep her safe from Rumplestiltskin, too. There was still no doubt in his mind that the monster wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if who she was to Killian was revealed. He would have to keep his distance from the family, but close enough to satisfy himself that he wasn’t leaving her alone. Remaining at Court in Versailles would be perfect.

~*~*~

The week at the chateau passed by for Killian very pleasantly. Mornings were spent touring the estate with either the Vicomtesse or Mademoiselle Regina. Emma was too young to spend most of her day among the adults of the chateau, but when she didn’t join them for tea the next day, he made his desire for her presence known to the Vicomtesse. Since then, Emma was a daily participant in the afternoon ritual after her daily rest. It was a few days after he arrived at the chateau that he realized the compulsion to visit Paris, first felt all those years ago, was the soulmate connection. He was acutely aware of Emma’s presence whenever she was nearby, and when he was actually with her the connection he felt with her filled him with a joy that he hadn’t felt in a century. It must have come upon him shortly after her birth, but as something he’d never felt before, he didn’t recognize it for what it was.

As the days passed, the Vicomtesse found more and more reason to remove herself from Killian’s company and employ her daughter in the entertainment of their guest. Killian had trouble hiding his smirk as for the third day in a row, the Vicomtesse was suddenly pulled away on urgent business at the chateau leaving him to tour the stables with Regina, who couldn’t hide her eye roll and rosy blush as they continued toward the stables.

“Hmmmmm,” mused Killian, leaning in closer to his guide, “Do you think that perhaps your mother might be trying to get us to spend some time alone together?”

Regina’s blush intensified as she rolled her eyes again. “She’s very old fashioned in her thinking and is trying desperately to make me a suitable match. Which she obviously thinks you are.” Killian pulled open the door to the stable for his companion. She ducked her head in embarrassment, but was unable to hide the spark of excitement in her chocolate brown eyes as she proceeded him into the stables. As he entered behind her, they were quickly approached by a young man, about his own apparent age. Brown hair, neatly cut for a stable hand, swooped back over the crown of his head. He was a handsome man with fine, strong features. Arriving by Regina’s side, he had to clear his throat in order for the two young people to snap out of their own little world and acknowledge his presence. He couldn’t help his chuckle as Regina’s blush deepened even further and the young man before her looked startled at the addition of a third to their meeting.

“Daniel, may I present the Prince d’Épinoy. He is a guest at the chateau before we return to Versailles at the end of the week.”

Killian gave a small bow to the man before him. “It’s a pleasure, sir.”

Regina turned back toward him, while keeping her eyes on Daniel. “Daniel is the stable master and will be preparing the horses for us this morning.”

“Ah, yes,” Daniel began, “You must be the owner of Nox. I must say, he is a magnificent animal, Sieur.” He turned away from them and led them toward the far end of the stables. Killian couldn’t help the pride that swelled in him at the high praise the stable master had for the animal. Daniel chuckled to himself. “He wouldn’t let anyone near him except me. Not that I mind. It’s a privilege to work with such an exceptional and beautiful horse.”

“Thank you, monsieur.” Killian looked around the immaculately kept stable and took in the obvious good health and well being of the other animals in their stalls. “That is high praise coming from someone of your obvious expertise.” Killian followed him until Nox poked his head out of his stall and whinnied in greeting. Killian reached into his coat pocket for an apple that he had brought from the kitchens as he began stroking the lustrous midnight black coat of his prized stallion. He nickered in pleasure as he chomped down on the tasty treat as they waited for Daniel to attend to Regina’s horse, Rocinante. Once Regina was mounted and ready, Killian opened the door of the stall and Daniel led Nox out with the lead rope.

Once he was mounted, Killian and Regina left the stable. Killian’s thoughts turned toward the young woman at his side. It was quite obvious to him that Regina loved Daniel. And Daniel certainly seemed to return her affections. But he was perceptive enough to know that the Vicomtesse would never approve of such a match. Not with the way she was doing all in her power to foster affection between himself and her daughter. She obviously loved both of her daughters very much, but she was also shrewd and calculating. A suitable match for Regina would be someone of the nobility with a high status at court. Anyone deemed lesser than their own station would never be considered.

“Tell me, Mademoiselle,” Killian began, hesitantly, “just who is the stable master to you?” He looked over as a soft blush colored her cheeks. He waited patiently as she seemed reluctant to share. After her earlier revelation, he wanted to make sure that she knew that he had no interest in her mother’s machinations to secure a match between them. Thoughts had already begun to tickle the edge of his mind of how he might be able to help the young lovers, if she deigned to trust him.

Regina cleared her throat as they cantered along. “Why do you ask, Monseigneur?”

“I’m simply observant, lass.” Killian clicked his tongue at Nox, changing their direction as Regina led them on a more southeasterly track toward the chateau’s vineyards. “I couldn’t help but notice the way you both looked at each other when we first entered the stable. As if you two were the only ones in the world.” He fell silent for a moment as memories washed over him. “I’ve only seen that kind of look once before. On the faces of dear friends who were very much in love. True Love, if you ask me.”

“Were?” she asked, looking at him.

“Aye, were,” he replied, sadly. “They’ve been gone many years. Taken far too soon.”

“How old were you,” she asked, softly.

Killian immediately realized his mistake. Speaking of the close friendship he had with David and Mary Margaret in the past tense, when he only appeared to be in his very early twenties, would naturally confuse Regina.

Killian scratched behind his ear as he scrambled for what to say. “Ah, let’s just say,” he began, nervously, “that I’m much older than I look.”

Regina laughed. “Well, how old are you then?”

Killian waggled his eyebrows at her. “Older than I look. That’s all you need know.”

Regina huffed. “Okay, fine then.” They continued their ride through the green of the valley. Before they had gone much farther, Killian tried to draw her out again.

“You never answered my question, Mademoiselle. Who is the stable master to you?” He looked at her again as she struggled to hide her thoughts from his perceptive gaze. She glanced toward him, her dark eyes piercing, clearly trying to see if she could trust him. Perhaps he should give her a reason to. “As I said, Mademoiselle, I am much older than I look. I have traveled far, seen and done many things. Dark things. Things that could prove advantageous to your particular situation.”

Shock plainly registered across her features. “What do you mean? What situation?”

Killian stopped his horse and looked directly at the young woman. “A situation where you feel trapped.” She cast her furrowed brow down toward her lap. “I am not far off the mark, am I, when I say that your mother would never approve of a match with your Daniel. That she would forcibly keep you right here, controlling you, making you into a carbon copy of herself, with all her ambitions for a higher station at court resting on your shoulders.” His piercing gaze rested on her as she lifted her gaze to him again. He watched the blood drain from her face.

“How could you possibly know all that?” she whispered.

He reached over and gently took her hand in his own. “I am not of this world, Mademoiselle. Trust me when I say that I can help you. I have the means and the desire. But, you must trust me.”

~*~*~

Regina looked down at their joined hands. The confusion, and yes, fear, she felt at their guest’s revelations were hard to rein in. _Not of this world. What did he mean?_ He had only been at their home for a short time, but in that time, he’d been nothing but a gentleman toward all the members of her family. His clear affection for her beloved younger sister was particularly gratifying. Somehow she knew that she could trust him with this secret, but that didn’t make it any easier to actually tell him.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking up at him again. “I love Daniel. And he loves me. His father died last winter, leaving him as the stable master. He’s been here with me as long as I can remember. He’s the one who taught me to ride.” She lowered her gaze again as she felt her cheeks flush at the memories that now poured from her lips. “We’ve been friends our entire lives. But last spring, that changed. We’ve had to be very discreet in our liaisons so that Mother wouldn’t catch us.”

She looked up at her companion again. His gentle gaze and soft smile prompted one of her own. “We’d love nothing more than to be together, but with Mother trying to force us together, Versailles imminent, and his new position here at the chateau, I don’t know how it would be possible,” she cried.

He released her hands and knickered to his horse to get them moving again. “You leave that to me. I’ll play the dutiful suitor between now and then, culminating with a fake engagement,” he ruminated, waggling his eyebrows at her, prompting a giggle from her. ”When we return to the chateau to plan a wedding, I’ll have all the arrangements made for you and Daniel to be together. Now, how can I help you between now and our journey to court?”

She cantered briskly to catch up with him. “You’d help me? Help us? Why?”

He laughed. A bitter, brittle thing that told of pain and despair beyond measure. “Let’s just say that I have a soft spot for those trapped in circumstances that they have no control over.” She couldn’t see his face, but she could imagine the storm clouds covering his visage with that statement. It was so desperate, so hopeless, that she felt her own heart go out to him. What kind of circumstances did he feel trapped in? Somehow she knew that she would never be privy to that information.

She caught up with him and gently placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you. But if there’s anything that I can do for you, you need only name it.”

His lips lifted in a soft smile. He patted her hand and looked up into her eyes again. His blue eyes were clear now. Clear as a summer sky. “Thank you, my dear. As we will be spending some time together in the coming months, fake courting and all, I would like for you to call me Killian.”

She could feel her cheeks flush again. “Then I must insist on you calling me Regina. It will make Mother think that we are getting closer. Which can only be good for keeping Daniel a secret from her.”

“Indeed. I’ll arrange for you to be my guide and companion for these last few days before we leave for Versailles, and you can meet Daniel without fear.”

The joy that exploded in her heart at his words could not be contained and a girlish giggle erupted from her lips. She dug her heels into Rocinante’s sides and took off toward the vineyards at a gallop with her new friend galloping behind, laughing along with her.


	5. Escape and Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unpleasant surprise at Versailles puts Killian's well laid plans in jeopardy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last really painful chapter, y'all. Don't yell at me too much, please.

Rumplestiltskin arrived in Versailles at the height of summer. Magic disguised his true form from the eyes of the aristocracy that gathered this night in a garish display of pomp and splendor. His eyes scanned the ballroom before him before they landed on his quarry. The tall, raven haired vampire’s eyes met his own from his place on the ballroom floor.

The sire connection he shared with Killian was something that he could tap in to at any time to find his progeny and make his life miserable. It had been several decades since he had last sought out his offspring, and he felt it was time to up the stakes of their encounters. In the past, unleashing disease near his location, or even on his ship, or sending magical storms for him to battle had been his favorite tactics with which to bedevil him. By no means however, were they they only tactics he employed. But now, he sought his person. He desired to ascertain exactly how he was living, how he was making his living, what kind of social standing he had, who, if anyone, he cared about, enabling him to swoop in and take it all away.

Blue eyes flashed red with surprise when they met his own dark irises. He couldn’t help the delighted grin that broke from his thin lips as their gazes broke momentarily when Killian turned on the dancefloor. Eyes locking again, images paraded themselves across his mind, images that he didn’t recognize right away. Images of a chateau within a green valley, a family gathered for a meal with his progeny among them, a blonde haired child running through tall grass.

A manic giggle bubbled up as he realized exactly what was happening. Eye contact between them opened the corridors of their minds. This was the first time since he had created the much younger vampire that they had been in each other's physical presence, so this was the first time that this had ever occurred. In the brief moments that their eyes held, he saw everything that he needed to know about the life that his offspring now led. He saw the people that were important to him. Including the young woman that he now danced with. Perhaps she would be suitable for his next victim, he mused as he continued to scan the room until his gaze landed on the other woman from the visions he was privy to.

She also watched his quarry as he twirled his partner around the floor that gleamed and glowed with the light of what must be a thousand candles. Her eyes shone with undisguised joy as the young couple danced before she leaned toward one of the other women in the small circle that surrounded her talking and gesticulating animatedly.

The music swelled toward the climax, drawing his attention back toward the couple on the dance floor. His eyes narrowed just as Killian briefly turned his way again, but avoided looking directly at him before he could capture and hold his gaze, trying to delve even deeper into the mind of his greatest triumph. He decided at that point to make his way over to the other woman. If, as he suspected, she was anyone of importance to Killian, that would only be advantageous to his cruel designs.

He straightened himself up to his full height and strolled, twirling his cane ahead of him, toward the group of women he had spied earlier. The eyes of his target landed on him and a light blush spread on her cheeks. He knew that in terms of good looks, he didn’t hold a candle to someone like Killian, but he wasn’t unattractive by any stretch of the imagination. His attire and bearing, along with a little magic, combined to give him an air of refinement and mystery. A combination that he was sure she’d find hard to resist. And if she did resist, he could always use his powers of compulsion on her. He smirked as her companions melted away as he made his way to her side.

“Rumple von Stiltskin,” he began, bowing over her raised hand and brushing his lips along her gloved knuckles, “Your servant, Madame.”

“Monsieur, welcome to Versailles.” She smiled demurely at him. “I am Vicomtesse Desmoulins.”

“Ahhh, forgive me,” he replied, with a small bow, “May I have this dance, Vicomtesse?”

“Of course,” she replied, placing her hand in his own as the music began again. He led her out to the floor as he saw his true target escort his lady off of the floor and away from him. Rumplestiltskin’s jaw clenched and his vision went red in fury briefly before he was able to bring himself back under control, just as his partner turned toward him and curtseyed. He bowed before drawing her into his arms.

~*~*~

“You are a wonderful dancer, Monsieur.” Rumple spun the woman in his arms with a smile.

“Thank you, Madame,” he replied, drawing her close again.

Her gaze became sultry. “Oh please, Monsieur,” she cooed, “Call me Cora.”

“Then you must call me Rumple.” He could feel every part of her lined up with him. He couldn’t pretend that he wouldn’t mind taking her to bed. “Tell me about yourself, Cora. I saw you watching a young couple earlier. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the beauty of your smile as they danced.”

Her seductive gaze turned soft. “My daughter and her suitor. He’s been a guest of my family since before we arrived.”

“I see,” he murmured. “They are a handsome couple.”

“Indeed,” she agreed. “He is the Prince d’Épinoy, and a sea captain. His name is Killian and he’s been courting my Regina since he arrived in our home about four months ago. I’m hopeful that he’ll be approaching my husband soon seeking her hand. Of course, we’d be delighted to grant our blessing to the match. My daughter as the Princesse d’Epinoy? It is all that I’ve ever dreamed for her!”

“Well, I certainly hope that it comes to pass as you wish.” The wheels in his head were already turning. Regina would do quite nicely as his next target, just as he had suspected. And through that connection, further harass his offspring. He caught the eye of his progeny for just a split second as he and Regina returned to the ballroom floor. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long enough to delve any more deeply into Killian’s mind than what he already had.

He watched them surreptitiously as the evening continued. Killian was obviously aware of what had happened earlier, and so was diligent in avoiding eye contact with his sire. So diligent, in fact, that Rumple couldn’t help but wonder if there was something even more important that his progeny was trying to keep hidden from his sight.

He couldn’t disguise his delight at the obvious agitation emanating from Killian. The tension in his bearing was extremely satisfying to witness, as well as the clenching of his jaw whenever he caught Rumple looking in their direction. His and his lady’s breaks from the dancefloor were also more frequent and lasted longer as the evening continued.

The last time Killian and Regina left the floor, Rumple maneuvered Cora in their direction, hoping to overhear some of their conversation.

“Perceptive, darling,” Killian murmured. “Yes, keep away from him.” He shot a look in his direction filled with warning, presumably borne out of protectiveness that almost made Rumple giggle in delight. “I don’t know what he wants with your mother, but given the way she’s been looking at him all night, I believe she is thoroughly smitten. We must be on our guard and protect ourselves from his influence. It is probably too late for your mother.”

“Is there anything we can do to avoid that? Anything we can do to help her?”

“Be aware,” he continued. “I’ve had many dealings with him over the years, and simply being aware of what he can do and the tactics he uses is the best defense against him. For her, I doubt it.” Hearing that little tidbit was enough to fill him with a keen satisfaction that he didn’t bother to try and hide as he continued to dance with the Vicomtesse. He may not be able to seduce Regina now that she’d been adequately warned against him coupled with Killian’s proximity, but he could still use his proximity to Cora to torment his offspring, both here at Versailles and back at their home when they inevitably returned to plan a wedding in the coming months.

 _And that,_ he thought, _is when I’ll make his entire world crash around him. Again._

~*~*~

Rumple rolled off Cora, sweaty, sated, and licking her blood from his lips before turning back toward her. He knew that she had something to tell him. She was nearly trembling with excitement when she arrived in his chamber. Before she had had a chance to tell him, however, their passion got the better of them.

Gathering her in his arms again and placing a gentle opened mouth kiss on her pulse point sealing the wound there, he murmured, “What is it, my love? I know that something has happened. You are nearly vibrating out of your skin. And not only from my attentions.”

A low moan escaped her as she let her head fall to the side, granting him better access as he continued kissing along her jaw. “Yes, Rumple,” she breathed, “You know me so well. Killian has finally approached Henry and asked for Regina’s hand. We leave for home tomorrow.”

She pushed him away and looked him in the eye. “Come with us. I can’t live without you, Rumple.”

Rumple leaned back in placing another kiss on her pulse point. “Of course I will, Cora. Anything I can do to make this time easier for you, be sure that I will.”

“The wedding will take place at Noël.” Her eyes filled with tears with a rough inhale.

He gathered her closer before speaking. “What’s wrong, my darling. You should be happy.”

“Oh, I am!” she exclaimed. “I just can’t believe how blessed I am.” A barking sob escaped her. “My daughter is to be married,” she looked up at him, desire simmering in her eyes, “I have you. What else could I ask for?”

Rumple let his desire for her fill his eyes as he felt his member stir and he settled himself between her legs again. “Nothing, my dear. Absolutely nothing.”

~*~*~

The wedding date was drawing near. The family along with Killian and Rumple had been back at the Chateau Havre-de-brume for about a month when the news that Killian and Regina were anxiously awaiting finally arrived.

They were all seated at dinner when his groomsman, formerly his First Mate on board ship, William Smee, whispered in his ear that an urgent message had arrived for him. He replied and returned to the meal and company before him. At the conclusion of the meal, he rose from the table, holding out his hand for Regina to accompany him. He couldn’t help but notice the wide smile on the face of his hostess and the evil smirk he perceived on the downcast profile of his sire as they left the formal dining room.

He hurried her along the hall toward the doors to the gardens. Once they were outside and beyond the hearing of anyone within, he gave a sharp whistle and Smee emerged from the shadows.

“Thank you, Smee,” he said, taking the folded sheet of paper his first mate held out to him. “Stay close for a few moments, please.”

The man bowed. “Y-yes, sir,” he stammered, before withdrawing slightly.

Killian’s eyes scanned over the missive, before he raised his face to look at his companion. “Everything is in readiness.” Regina forcefully released the breath she’d been holding as he read.

She placed her hand on her chest and her eyes fell shut at his news. Killian released a small chuckle. “Smee,” he motioned the other man over, “find the stable master and inform him to be ready at midnight on the morrow. We’re getting away from here.” Smee gave a sharp little bow and scurried away into the night.

“Killian,” she breathed, “I have no words adequate…” she trailed away. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart!” Breaking all decorum, she threw herself into his arms. Killian stumbled back with a small chuckle at her exuberance.

“You are quite welcome, milady,” he replied, releasing her with a small smile. “It does my heart good to have a hand, however small, in someone else's happiness.” His eyes softened as he gazed on the glowing countenance of the woman before him. “Now, as far as the journey is concerned, take with you only what you need for the road. It will take three days hard riding to get to Marseille where my ship is docked. You will need to travel light. We need to get a good head start on your mother. Once she discovers that you’ve gone, she will spare no expense to find you and bring you home.”

“My home is wherever Daniel is,” she interrupted.

He smiled gently at her. “Of course,” he agreed. “Once we’re away from here, we’ll travel along the smuggling lines I use as a pirate captain to get goods sold and delivered on the black market.” Regina’s eyes grew to the size of saucers as he made his revelations. He raised his eyebrow at her. “Part of the dark things I’ve done that could prove advantageous to someone in your situation,” he reminded her, pointedly. Regina’s cheeks flushed red as she looked at the ground.

“Our first stop will be with a, ahh, friend of mine. Her name is Ariel.” Regina couldn’t hide her smirk. “Don’t look at me like that.” He smirked right back at her. “She was once a part of my crew. Until she fell in love with a captured sailor we had on board. She and her husband are now a part of the underground network that I use for smuggling.”

“From there, I’ll send a missive back to the chateau expressing my heartbreak at your betrayal by running away with the stable master. Along with my speculation that you could be trying to escape to Wurtemburg, across the Rhine. That will send her in the opposite direction from where we are traveling and unless she has some kind of connection in England, it wouldn’t occur to her to search for you there. You will be free.”

“We can only hope,” she murmured. “And you can marry us, once we’re out to sea?”

“As Captain of the Jolly Roger, I can indeed, milady,” he assured her, bowing over her hand that he’d taken in his own while he spoke. “And now, it is time for us both to retire. We have much to prepare for our journey.”

“Of course,” she murmured, taking his arm. He led her back inside the chateau and along the corridors until they arrived at her chambers.

“Until tomorrow, Regina.” He bowed low, kissing her hand, before taking his leave as she entered her room.

Walking along the deserted hallways to his own chamber, his mind ran over exactly what the coming days and weeks would hold for him. Getting Regina and Daniel out of France would present no problem. The underground network he spoke of was well tended and quite healthy. They would have access to adequate provisions and be able to rest sufficiently as they made the journey. Once they arrived at the Jolly, it would only take about a week to get to England. A bag of gold and putting them in touch with his contacts in Portsmouth would be more than enough for the young couple to establish a new life for themselves far from Cora and the machinations of Rumplestiltskin. The thought that he had a hand in helping the young people start a better life, a happier life, together lifted the cloak of self-loathing that he still wore, even after all these years. It was another step in the right direction, toward the more honorable life he wanted to live now that he’d found his golden haired Swan. Hopefully, getting Regina out of Rumplestiltskin’s reach and keeping his own distance from the family until Emma had the chance to grow up, would draw the monster away from them and ensure her safety. He would return in a few years to hopefully court and marry Emma. He uttered a quiet prayer for his golden haired Swan and the rest of her family as he crawled into bed.

~*~*~

**Paris, January 1794**

Killian awoke in the filth of his prison cell within the Bastille with more hope than he had had in a long time. He had arrived back in France last fall and had been arrested for piracy before he ever got to the Chateau Havre-de-brume to ascertain the well being of Emma and her family in the midst of the Reign of Terror.

He had maintained a correspondence with the Vicomtesse over the years ever since that first letter he sent when Regina and Daniel had escaped. Once he had gotten them to safety, he had traveled to the Americas and the Caribbean making even more of a fortune smuggling than he already had. It was through those letters that he knew not only of her heartbreak at Regina’s disappearance and betrayal plus Rumplestilstkin’s desertion, but also the rising danger to the nobility of France. His plan to draw his sire away from the family had obviously been successful. But as the peril mounted over the last few years, and he saw no sign of the monster in any of his travels, he began to suspect that Rumplestiltskin himself was behind the rising threat. He would not be at all surprised if he was the one behind the wholesale slaughter of the nobility for no other reason than to create chaos and mayhem as well as draw himself and possibly Regina out. If he knew his sire, the demon couldn’t abide leaving anyone of the Desmoulins family alive, knowing how much they meant to him. And if he got to kill thousands of others in the process, so much the better.

It was only last fall that he had been able to return to France to try and get the family to the safety of England. He planned to arrive at the chateau and smuggle the family out exactly as he had for Regina and Daniel eight years before. Unfortunately, his arrest had put a stop to those plans. Smee had been fortunate to avoid capture and had been able to keep him apprised of developments in getting Emma and her family out of France. He could have used his powers of persuasion and compulsion on his captors, but if his sire was behind all this, he would be expecting it, first of all, and would be keeping watch on the family in order to capture him again as well as giving him an excuse to kill them all. Keeping himself away from them could only keep them safe, and he could arrange for their escape from here just as well as getting them out himself. Once he received word that the plan was in motion, he would make his escape and meet them at Ariel and Eric’s.

The night before, word had finally come that the family Desmoulins were on their way to safety. When the literal garbage that passed for breakfast was brought to him, he would use his powers to get his guard to open the door of his cell and release him.

Before that happened however, a different set of guards arrived at his cell.

~*~*~

Killian looked around at the room he found himself in when the bag covering his head was removed. It was every bit as splendid as the ballroom in Versailles with gold plating on the walls reflecting the rising sun and rich blue draperies pulled back from the floor to ceiling windows every few feet. An unholy giggle sounded behind him that sent a chill down his spine.

“Leave us.”

He refused to turn. He now knew exactly who was the instigator of the hysteria that had gripped all of France. He now knew the true reason why he had been arrested. He now knew why his eyes had been covered when he was brought here. And he also knew that Rumplestiltskin had brought him here for a reason.

“What? No greeting?” He could hear almost dancing footsteps on the marble floor underneath his feet as his greatest enemy entered his peripheral.

“What is it you want, Crocodile?” he snarled.

“Oh, I think you know the answer to that,” the monster purred. The demon stood before him, no magic disguising his true appearance this time. Another giggle escaped his lips as he backed away. “I wanted to be the one to tell you in person that you are free to go.”

“Free to go, hmm?” he asked. If his hands had been free, he would have made a show of tapping his finger on his chin, just as the demon had done before turning him centuries ago. “Why don’t I believe you?”

Yet another giggle burst from the cursed creature before him. “Because you know me too well, Dearie!” he cackled, clapping his hands delightedly. “Come, come! I want you to see something.”

When he didn’t move, the fiend waved his hand and transported him to the balcony overlooking the guillotine set up in the square. Magic transformed Rumplestiltskin back into the swave, debonair gentleman that he had masqueraded as back at Versailles all those years ago. He took his place at his side and with a loud voice announced that beginning the day's executions would be not just members of the aristocracy, but also criminals caught in the act of trying to protect those traitors. A loud cheer, bordering on madness, rose from the gathered crowd.

Just as when the beast had turned him, he was frozen in place, forced to watch as Smee ascended the platform and was pushed to his knees. He could see silent tears falling down the man's cheeks as his head was placed under the blade. Thankfully, this time, he was able to shut his eyes against the sight of his first mate meeting his end. Some small mercy that he had not received when Liam died.

He opened his eyes again when the cheer rose from the crowd. From where he stood on the balcony, he could see the red cap Smee was never seen without covering the head in the basket. Blood tears filled his eyes as the guilt for his friend’s death crashed down on him. In moments the body had been taken away and Eric and then Ariel were led to take their places under the blade.

Just as he thought he couldn’t take anymore, Henry and then Cora was executed. Cora caught sight of him and Rumplestiltskin and her screams for either one of them to save her filled the square. Killian knew that he would forever be haunted by the abrupt silence when the deadly instrument claimed her life before the crowd erupted again.

Finally, his Emma was led onto the platform. At only 18 years old, she had fully grown into the beauty he had seen only whispers of when he knew her as a child, and that she was just beginning to show when he knew her in London over a century ago. The blood tears trailed down his face as she was forced to her knees and her head placed in position. One last time, he was able to shut his eyes against the horror of his golden haired Swan losing her life to the scourge of the guillotine. His sire was so transfixed by the violence and pandemonium he had fostered, that he seemed oblivious to the small gift Killian had received in being able to close his eyes against the horror before him.

Once his Emma was dead, he was released from his magical imprisonment. He fell to his knees as a keening wail burst from him. He couldn’t lift his eyes to look on the face of his nemesis, but he could feel the rush of magic and see the change in attire on the legs and feet before him.

“Well, that was fun,” the monster quipped, as Killian’s wails began to subside. With a bellowing snarl, Killian lunged for the beast, but the creature disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Alone now in his grief, Killian remained where he was for some time before he was able to pull himself together. He straightened up to his full height and walked from the balcony and down into the square. Iron resolve rose in him to help others get out of France to safety. Since he wasn’t able to save Emma and her family, he would honor her memory by doing everything in his power to thwart Rumplestiltskin and his schemes. If he could help just one, it would be worth it.

And next time, when he recognized the soulmate connection, he’d find her again and never let her go.


	6. Ch. 5 Ingrid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are now in the modern era, and we meet a new family that has become a major part of Killian's life.

**Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts, October 1995**

Killian Jones brought the _Jolly Roger_ into his personal dock on his estate greatly anticipating a warm meal and long hot shower after being away for so many months. Of course he ate on the _Jolly_ and she had been outfitted with modern plumbing that he kept most of the passengers away from, but nothing beat a homemade meal from his own kitchen. He had donned many hats over the centuries in terms of occupations, pirate captain, smuggler, whaler, blockade runner, a brief stint as a doctor in Chicago, and now pleasure cruise captain, and now that the long summer season was over, he could return to his home for a few months of rest and relaxation. The weather was just starting to turn cooler overall, but the sharp bite of the wind and clouds rolling in told him that a storm was right on his heels. He made his way up to the back door of the manor as his scarf was blown about his face and raindrops just started to fall.

“Thank you, Mr. Starkey,” he addressed the older man that had immediately appeared when he entered as he handed him his scarf and leather greatcoat.

“Your supper will be ready in about an hour, sir,” the man admitted, chagrined. “I wasn’t expecting you quite this early.”

“No worries, Starkey,” he replied, “we had favorable winds, and with the expected storm, I wanted to make it home before it hit. This will give me time to get the sea salt off me before I sit down to your excellent meal.”

The man before him smiled. “It’s your favorite, sir. I wanted to welcome you home properly. My lobster chowder with Red Lobster’s cheddar bay biscuits.”

Killian threw his head back and groaned in delight. “I can taste it already. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, sir.”

Killian departed the lower story, and headed for his chambers on the other side of his home trying to bring his salivating under control. He may have problems with fresh, raw garlic, but who could resist those biscuits?

~*~*~

Much later that night, Killian was pulled from his slumber by a crack of lightning that shook the windows and lit up his chambers as if it was noon. The rain against the windows beat a staccato rhythm that matched his breathing and heart rate. Once he got his breathing back under control and his pulse back down where it normally was, much, much less than a resting heart rate for a human, he became aware of a pull. A tugging sensation over his heart that almost felt like something was trying to rip it out his chest. Laying back down on his bed, the sensation lessened but didn’t go away entirely. As he lay there rubbing at the area, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest with a pressure, that if he didn’t know any better, he would have said resembled a heart attack. It was exactly the same sensation that he felt over 200 years ago when Emma had been born in France and when she had been born in the late 19th century.

_Killian would never forget the day that he lost his Swan yet again. He recognized the soulmate connection and arrived in Chicago a few years later in 1896. He took a position with St. Luke's Hospital near the industrial center of the city where he knew his Swan was employed. One of the unfortunate victims of the lack of child labor laws and the Industrial Revolution. Close enough to feel her daily presence, but apparently not close enough to protect her. Rumplestiltskin, owner of the factory where she worked, brought her in covered in blood from where she had lost most of her left arm in an accident at the factory. Although his cruel designs were cleverly hidden behind his mask of feigned concern for the little girl in his arms, Killian could see the delight dancing in his enemy’s eyes as he lay Emma, only about six years old, even younger than he had known her at first in France, on the table in front of him. She had lost so much blood and was so nearly gone, that he was completely taken aback when her green eyes opened briefly, landing on him, and whispered, “It’s you.” before breathing her last. It was all he could do to remain upright. Did she somehow recognize him? Recognize their connection? No one questioned the blood tears that streaked his face, just assuming it was hers, as he ran from the room, Rumplestiltskin’s laughter echoing in his ears._

She had been reborn again. There was no doubt in his mind. But where? When she had been reborn in France, he had felt the pull toward Paris. In the 1890’s, Chicago. This time though, he wasn’t feeling any particular pull toward anywhere. Could it be too soon? Had she literally _just_ been born? Was it possible that she could have been born somewhere nearby? He didn’t dare hope. Hopefully the morning light would bring some answers. Hopefully, he’d be able to get back to sleep before then.

~*~*~

He was awakened the next morning by Starkey knocking lightly on his chamber door. Killian awoke rather disconcerted that he had slept as late as the angle of the sun in his room told him it was, plus the fact that anyone approaching his chambers normally would have put his senses on full alert. Being caught unawares by Rumplestiltskin, even in the privacy of his own home, was not something he wanted happening.

“Enter,” he called, standing and wrapping himself in the robe from the bottom of the bed.

Starkey stuck his head through the door with mirth dancing in his eyes and a smile on his face. “The ladies Elsa and Anna Fisher are downstairs for you, sir. On the back patio. They are quite excited and impatient to see you.”

An affectionate grin broke over his face. “I’ll be down momentarily, Starkey.”

“Very good, sir,” he replied. “I’ll let them know.”

~*~*~

Killian entered the patio area just a few minutes later to the barely contained enthusiasm of two little girls that he had been blessed to know these last few years when they came into the care of their aunt, Ingrid Fisher, a very close personal friend of his for many, many years. The girls had been so young when they entered her charge, nearly one and just turned three, that they both knew her as Mama.

“Uncle Killian,” little Anna cried, “guess what?” She had very nearly flown from her place on the chaise lounge where she had been bouncing in her exuberance. She now stood before him nearly vibrating with excitement trying to contain the torrent of words that it was nearly killing her to hold back right now.

Killian knelt down before her and lifted her into his arms as he continued to where a much more sedate Elsa waited patiently for them on one of the other lounges. “What is it, my lamb?” He settled down next to Elsa and gave his full attention to the elated little girl in his arms.

“We have a new baby,” she very nearly squealed.

“AnewsisterMamacalledfromthehospitalthismorningtotellusthatababygirlhadbeenbornlastnightintheEmergencyRoombutthemamaleftsothebabyhasnoonetotakecareofhersowe’regonnatakecareofhershe’llbeoursister.” Anna’s words tumbled out of her so quickly that Killian had trouble keeping up. He looked toward Elsa with barely disguised confusion on his face.

Elsa released a long suffering sigh, as only a six year old could. “You have to slow down, Anna,” she exasperated. “Mama will be bringing home a new sister for us. She was born last night.” Killian couldn’t help the chill that ran down his spine at that information. “But the mama left before morning. Since Mama is already approved to be a foster parent, we get to have her.” At this, some of the excitement that Elsa usually kept inside, leaked through. Her blue eyes sparkled and the smile that broke over her face rivaled the sun at noon. “Mama said that we’ll adopt her and she’ll be our sister. She’ll have the same last name and everything!”

“Oh, my darlings,” he exulted, “that is indeed wonderful news!” He reached over and pulled Elsa to him in a side hug as Anna was doing her best to strangle him with the force of her embrace. “When will Ingrid be bringing her home and when may I come see the new addition to the family?”

“Mama said it would be a few days before she could bring her home,” Elsa volunteered, “so maybe this weekend.” She shrugged.

“Alright then,” he replied. “I will call this evening after your mama gets home and get some more details.” He stood back up with Anna still in his arms and started toward the kitchen. “And now, my lambs, have you had breakfast? Would you like some French toast? I know how you love Mr. Starkey’s French toast.”

The girl's squeals had nearly the same effect on the windows that the lightning had the night before. Killian laughed as he led them from the patio to the kitchen.

~*~*~

“Hello?”

“Good evening, Ingrid,” he replied, settling down in his favorite armchair, “I hear congratulations are in order.”

His friend’s delighted laugh made a grin break out on his own face. “I knew the girls wouldn’t be able to wait to tell you.”

“So, tell me everything.”

“A teenager, a girl really,” she corrected herself, “came in last night in the last stages of labor. Her daughter was born about three this morning. Right at the height of the storm, from what I understand.” Killian hummed and tried, without much success, to suppress the shiver that ran through him. “But by the time I got in this morning, she was gone. I don’t know how she was able to walk out of the ER so soon after giving birth. So there’s essentially no record of her whatsoever. She was too close to delivery to get any kind of information about her, and when one of the other nurses came in to get the information and move her and the baby to the maternity ward, she was gone. Leaving that poor baby girl behind.” She sighed.

“By the time I got there at 7, the whole place was in an uproar. I went up to the nursery to see her and just fell in love. With the mother gone and no idea of where to begin looking for her, that poor baby would go straight into the system. And I just couldn’t allow that. Not when I had the power to stop it.”

Killian hummed in agreement. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, lass. Tell me, this baby...” he hesitated. Ingrid was the closest friend he had ever had. She was one of two, in all his centuries of life, that ever knew exactly what he was. But she didn’t know about this. “This baby, have you decided on a name for her yet? She doesn’t by any chance have a birthmark on her neck, does she?” It was all he could do to keep his breathing steady as he awaited her answer.

“The girls and I discussed it and we decided she looks like an Emma. And yes, she does have a birthmark actually,” she exclaimed. Killian’s breath hitched. “How could you have possibly guessed that? It’s a swan that looks like it’s taking off. I’ve never seen anything like it. Anna thought ‘Swan’ should be her middle name. For the birthmark.”

Killian’s head spun. He gripped the sides of the chair, trying to regain some equilibrium. It was her. It was his Swan. How…? He couldn’t believe that it had happened again. He had, of course, been waiting for it, hoping, continuing on in the long lonely years of his life, praying, ever hopeful that this day would come. But now that it was here, it was all he could do to contain himself. He cleared his throat. “Emma Swan Fisher,” he whispered. “Uh, Ingrid? When will you be bringing her home?” he asked.

“Wednesday morning, barring any unforeseen complications, I should be able to bring her home,” Ingrid replied. “Killian, what’s going on?” Her concern for him was plain over the line. Killian scrubbed his face in his agitation.

“Ingrid, I promise,” he beseeched her, “I’ll explain everything. I’ll see you Wednesday. Give me a call when you get home.” He hung up and scrubbed his hand down his face again.

He made his way to the adjoining bath and splashed cold water on his face, trying to bring himself under control. He looked back up in the mirror. Haunted eyes in a pale face looked back out at him. Purple bruises under his eyes told him that he’d gone too long without the sustenance that his physical body still needed, even if he could still eat and drink. He was going to have to hunt tonight. Getting his hands on a rabbit or even a larger animal like a deer wasn’t going to cut it. Not after a shock like that rocked him to his very core.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to do it very often, he normally partook of animal blood to meet his body’s needs. And even that, he only had to do once, maybe twice a month. But when he was so obviously drained, as this bombshell had quite effectively accomplished, he was going to need human blood. Fortunately, the island had no shortage of scoundrels, villians, the bottom dwellers of humanity on which to feed, people that no one would miss, and in fact, their disappearance may very well free others on whom they preyed.

Donning black from head to toe, the vampire disappeared into the night.

~*~*~

Killian was unsurprised when he could see Anna’s red braids flying behind her as she ran to answer the door. Ingrid had brought baby Emma home that morning and he had told Ingrid to expect him around noon.

“Uncle Killian,” she cried, grabbing his hand and dragging him along behind her. “Come see my baby,” she exclaimed.

Killian chuckled as he picked her up and strode toward where he could hear the cries of an infant. “Where are they, my lamb?”

“In the breakfast room. Baby Emma doesn’t like the bottle Mama is trying to feed her,” she chattered on about how cute and how loud her baby was. Killian couldn’t help the delighted grin that stretched his lips as he came into the room. Ingrid sat at the table with the newborn in her arms, holding a small bottle to her mouth. Elsa stood by her side cooing to the baby and gently stroking her head trying to get her to take the bottle.

Ingrid lifted her face toward Killian as he set Anna down so that the little whirlwind could join her Mama and sisters. “Oh, Killian! Thank God, you’re here,” she exclaimed. “Could you take her for just a minute? I’m not ready for the girls to hold her by themselves yet and my bladder is about to bust.”

Killian was taken aback briefly, but made his way over to them and sat down. “Of course, Ingrid,” he assented, holding out his arms for the infant. As soon as Ingrid transferred the precious bundle into his own arms and handed him the bottle, she all but ran out of the room.

The girls gathered around him as he looked down at the baby. Wide light gray eyes stared, unblinking at him. He took in every detail he could. The way her little cheeks had yet to fill out to the pleasing plumpness that most associated with babies. The thin, whispy, light colored peach fuzz that covered the crown of her head. The scrunches around her eyes when she closed them as she opened her rosebud lips on a wide yawn. With her mouth as wide as that, he thought he might attempt to get her to take the bottle in his hand. Placing it in her mouth, she closed it again and began to drink from the instrument of nourishment. Her eyes opened again and she continued to stare at him as she drank from the bottle.

A smile broke his face as a profound sense of destiny swept over him. This was his Swan. Beyond any doubt. He could see the birthmark on her neck. He could feel the connection between them buzzing under his skin and with every beat of his heart as he held her close. Perhaps that was why she was taking the bottle from him so easily when she didn’t want to take it from Ingrid. Love like he had never known filled him near to overflowing. A love that he had harbored for over 300 years. Holding his soulmate in his arms like this, made him realize one thing. He would do anything to protect her. And since he found her so early in her life this time, he’d be able to protect her the way he wanted to. The way he should have done all those times before. He would do anything to make sure that she had the chance to grow up and fulfill her destiny. Her prophesied destiny to join him in the destruction of the Darkness and the final downfall of Rumplestiltskin. This time, he would succeed. This time, she would be his. He couldn’t lose her again. _And then_ , a small smile broke over his face, _they’d live happily ever after._

He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Rumplestiltskin in a century. Not since the last time that Emma had lived, in the late nineteenth century. As much as he rejoiced that the demon had left him alone for so long, it was rather disconcerting. Before Emma died in France, he would make his presence known about every decade or so. Since then, it had been spaced out further, finally terminating when Killian had lost Emma back in Chicago. Again at the hands of his sire. This was by far however, the longest that he had gone without being aware of his presence. Now that Emma had come into his life again, he would doubtless make an appearance. He’d have to be doubly vigilant in keeping her safe from the monster if he hoped to bring his dream to fruition. And now, he was going to have to tell Ingrid _everything._

~*~*~

All three of the girls were finally down for naps when Killian and Ingrid settled down in the living room with some hot tea. Ingrid leveled a hard stare at him sending him scratching at the area behind his ear.

“Ok, Killian. What’s going on here?” The love and concern were written all over her face.

Killian couldn’t meet her eyes as he began. “There is only one person that I’ve spoken to about this, Ingrid,” he sighed. “And I honestly never expected to have to do this with you.” He raised his head until his eyes met hers. “You are the closest friend I’ve ever had. You know what I am. You know what I care about, my values, and my convictions. How I live this cursed life.”

“And it’s because I know you so well,” she interrupted, leaning over to him and placing her hand on his arm, “that I’ve never been afraid of you. Both to have you in my life for all of these years and the lives of the girls.”

“And I can’t thank you enough for that, lass.” He looked down at where she was touching him with a soft smile.

“Pfft,” she snorted, leaning back in her chair and waving away his sentiment, “Don’t call me lass. I’m a little too old for that these days.”

He smirked at her. “You’ll always be a lass, compared to me, love,” he teased her, earning him a mighty eye roll.

_Twenty-seven years ago, he met Ingrid, quite literally by accident. An accident that had claimed both her parents, and nearly claimed herself as well. When Killian got himself out of his car, with his broken bones and cuts quickly healing, he could plainly see that there was nothing he could do to help the two adults in the front of the Oldsmobile that had broadsided him. The two girls in the back however, were both still alive, although the older one was in immediate need of medical attention. As he moved closer to her, he could hear the rush of her blood within her, not in its appointed channels. She was bleeding internally and would almost surely die before she could be transported to a hospital. The other girl, probably about five years her junior, was only unconscious. He moved to the side of the gravely injured child, and sneaking a glance around to be sure that no one in the gathering crowd was paying attention to him, bit into his wrist and held it up to the girl’s lips, letting just a few drops of his blood land on her tongue. The coppery taste was enough to rouse her. Unfortunately, sharing his blood with her would not only heal her, but also expose him for what he truly was. Her eyes widened in her shock._

_“Who are you?” she asked, obviously fearful that a strange man with red eyes and fangs was standing over her._

_“A friend,” he answered, as his wound healed and his eyes resumed their blue hue and his fangs retracted. Listening carefully, he could hear not only the sirens of ambulances in the distance, but he could also hear the healing going on in her body. “You’ve been in an accident.” He didn’t think it wise to tell her about her parents._

_Her eyes widened even more. “What about Mama, Papa, Gerta?” she cried, looking toward her sister._

_“Your sister is going to be fine, lass,” he said, comfortingly. “What’s your name?”_

_“Ingrid,” she replied. “Ingrid Fisher.”_

_“Your sister is going to be fine, Ingrid. And so will you.” He moved away from her side as the paramedics arrived. He waved them off from attending to him, as only a few scratches were now visible. The girls needed their attention much more than he did._

_He had been able to keep in contact with her, and because she quite vividly remembered his healing of her, he wasn't terribly surprised when the, by then, young teen, figured out his secret._

Killian returned to the present and to the amused concern still flooding Ingrid’s eyes. He gave her a small smile before taking a deep breath and beginning his story, from the beginning.

~*~*~

Ingrid’s mouth hung open as she leaned back on the sofa. “Soooo, let me get this straight,” she mused, “Rumplestiltskin, as in the fairy tale Rumplestiltskin, was real. Is real,” she corrected herself, shaking her head. “And that baby, from the fairy tale, was your brother. Fast forward, he kills Liam and changes you, and since then he’s come back every so often and has been responsible for at least two of…” here she trailed away momentarily, obviously trying to get her mind around all he had revealed to her, “my Emma’s past deaths. Ok.” She nodded decisively. “I can handle this.” She turned her pale blue eyes to his. “But she is your soulmate. And the two of you are prophesied to destroy the Darkness? The Darkness that makes you a vampire? But what will happen to you?”

Killian shrugged his shoulders. “If it’s the Darkness that makes me a vampire, as I believe it is, I’m hopeful that I’ll no longer be a vampire and that I’ll be able to live out my life with Emma at my side.”

“Oh, Killian,” she breathed, “That would be wonderful, indeed.”

“So you raise her,” Killian asserted, looking at her again. “You adopt her and raise her as your own. As long as that monster stays away, you will all be safe. But when he comes, and I say when because it’s only a matter of time, you will have to leave.” He looked down at the clasped hands in his lap. “And you won’t be able to tell me where you go. He would be able to find you through my knowledge. And he won’t hesitate to kill you all to prevent my happy ending with Emma. When the time is right, you’ll come back, and I’ll be able to court her and protect you all myself. This time,” his voice shook in his conviction, “we will succeed.”

She covered his hands with her own. “You will, Killian. I have no doubt.”

~*~*~

**Three and a half years later, Boston**

Rumplestiltskin stood on the quay looking up at the ship that he hadn’t seen with his own eyes in over four hundred years. It looked exactly the same from where he stood. The wood of the hull was in pristine condition, freshly painted, nearly ageless. If he didn’t know for sure that it was the same ship, he’d have trouble believing it himself. _Still as majestic as I remember._

Rumple ducked his head into his shoulder as the captain appeared at the gunwale of the ship. He wasn’t yet ready to reveal his presence to his progeny.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, lads and lasses,” the captain called out. “Welcome to _Jolly Roger Tours_! I am your captain, Killian Jones. Today we will be sailing into the waters of the Atlantic, hearing tales of Blackbeard and Captain Kidd, and visiting several barrier islands where they and several other of the most notorious pirates from the Golden Age of Piracy lurked before striking the merchant ships coming into Boston Harbor. We will end our tour in Salem with a visit to the New England Pirate Museum where you will see actual pirate treasure and be able to tour a Colonial seaport before returning home. Now once you are aboard, everyone under the age of twelve will become junior crew members. They will be outfitted in pirate gear and will be in the charge of one of my crew for the duration of the tour.”

The captain then turned a stern eye on the very excited children of the group. “Now let me tell you how it works on my ship. I give the orders and you follow them. Is that clear?” The children let out a collective _YESSS,_ that was so loud, he was sure he wasn't the only adult with the beginnings of a headache. “Then welcome aboard, me hearties!”

The children climbing the gangplank resembled a flock of birds, moving as one, with the combined weight of a small elephant, which did nothing to make the headache dissipate. Perhaps it was a mistake to make his appearance here and now. But the time had come again. Time to remind Killian Jones who had the power in their centuries-long dance.

He hung back until he was at the end of the queue ascending the gangplank. As he neared the captain, who was personally welcoming each passenger aboard, he decided to go ahead and make his presence known to his host.

~*~*~

Killian was nearly to the end of the queue when a depraved giggle reached his ears and a bolt of fear traveled down his spine. Looking toward the last person in the line, his eyes widened as he took in the distinctive profile of his sire. Thankfully, his eyes were averted, so he was in no danger of revealing anything to the demon, but he could see the curve of a sinister grin sliding onto his features.

“What are you doing here,” he hissed.

“Why, Captain Jones,” he gasped, in mock outrage, placing his hand on his heart “no joyous welcome? No, ‘It’s good to see you, _mate.’”_

“No,” he deadpanned, crossing his arms across his chest. “As Captain of this ship, I have the right to refuse to let anyone on board. For any reason.”

“Oh, really?” he drawled, feigning surprise. “Are you going to let me board, _Captain?”_

“No, I am not,” he replied. “Get off of my ship. And don’t let me see your face anywhere near her again.”

Rumplestiltskin giggled again. “Oh, don’t you worry, Dearie,” he crooned, before his voice took on an edge of malice, and was that anticipation that he could detect in his words? “Showing my face near your _ship_ will be the least of your worries in the near future.”

 _Dear God in heaven,_ Killian thought, _he knows where Emma is._ “Get off of my ship.”

“Aye, aye, _Captain_ ,” he murmured, with a mocking bow, sarcasm oozing from his words. “Until we meet again.”

Killian watched as Rumplestiltskin meandered down the gangplank, his gold tipped cane clicking on the boards, before he disappeared into the crowds.

~*~*~

Killian brought the _Jolly_ in to dock behind his estate, his shoulders dropping in relief when he saw the four people he loved most in this world waiting for him. He’d been acutely aware, all day long, that if his sire knew about the family and where to find them, he could have already struck.

Anna, predictably, bounced on the balls of her feet, all ready for her adventure. Ingrid and Elsa were doing an admirable job keeping their countenance free of the fear he could plainly see in their eyes. Little Emma dozed on her mother’s shoulder. It was past her bedtime.

He descended the gangplank and grabbed their various suitcases and baby paraphernalia before he started hauling them aboard as Anna peppered him with questions. “Where are we going, Uncle Killian? Is it a pirate adventure? Is that why we’re leaving at night? Are we gonna spend the night in a pirate cave? Do we get to hunt for buried treasure?” Killian chuckled at her enthusiasm as he deposited their luggage on the deck .

“No, my lamb,” he sighed, “You’ll be going on an adventure with your mother and sisters this time. I’m not coming. I’m simply taking you there.”

“But, why aren’t you coming?” she whined, looking up at him with her big blue eyes.

Killian knelt down in front of her. From Elsa’s expression, Ingrid had either told her what was going on, or she picked up on her mother’s apprehension. Elsa stepped forward next to her sister, fixing him with her stare.

“Where are we going, Uncle Killian?” she asked. “All Mama told us was that we needed to pack our suitcases and that we could bring only two favorite toys and two books.”

“I didn’t know what to tell them, Killian,” Ingrid lamented. Killian smiled gently at her, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. He knew this day would come, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with now that it was here.

Before the ship had even cast off for the Pirate Tour that morning from Boston harbor, he had texted Ingrid to tell her that it was go time. He’d told her when he’d be home that evening and that she and the girls were to meet him at the dock. He would take them to Boston, and they could disappear to anywhere in the world, ensuring their safety from Rumplestiltskin. Shortly after he had revealed everything to her when Emma was just a newborn, he had made financial arrangements for the family in anticipation of this day. A secure offshore bank account in Ingrid’s name would meet all their needs for many, many years to come.

“I’m taking you to Boston, my lambs,” Killian began. “And from there your Mama will be your captain. She’ll be telling you where you’re going and how you’re going to get there.” He smiled at them. “You might be getting on another ship, you might be getting on an airplane, you might be getting on a train or a bus. This is going to be a most excellent adventure. But for now, we must cast off. We’ll be in Boston in no time.” He rose from before them as Ingrid returned from his quarters after settling Emma in bed down below. “Ingrid, take the helm while I weigh anchor,” he ordered. “Girls, go below with Emma.”

Everyone scrambled to obey his orders as he moved to the capstan. The enchantment that the Blue Fairy had placed on the wood of the _Jolly_ all those years ago, still held and enabled him to lift the 112lb anchor himself. Once finished, he joined Ingrid at the helm.

He placed his arm around her shoulders as she finally lost the battle with the tears she’d been holding back. He murmured comfort into the crown of her head as she sobbed into his chest.

“How am I supposed to leave you, Killian?” she cried. “You’ve been with me for most of my life! I’ve always been able to count on you!”

“And you will again, love,” he cajoled. “This is only temporary. As soon as Emma is old enough for me to court, you’ll come back and we’ll be together again.”

She raised her tear stained face up to his. “But, Killian,” she protested, “that’s fifteen years away! How am I supposed to not contact you for that long?”

He turned to her and held her gaze with his own. “Ingrid, I have never met, in all my years of life, a woman as strong as you. Losing your parents when you did, fighting for Gerta not to be separated from you while you were growing up in the system, losing her and Agnar so soon after Anna was born, raising these three girls all by yourself, accepting me into your lives so easily, Ingrid, that takes a tremendous amount of bravery and fortitude,” he asserted. “You will be fine. And so will those girls. Rumplestiltskin will not be able to find you and they will grow up safe, happy, and together. That is all that matters right now.”

Ingrid sniffled again. “I know,” she sighed, “I’m just gonna miss you so much.”

“And I’ll miss you all, too. So much,” he murmured, placing a kiss to her brow. “Now you go below and be with your girls. We’ll be to Boston in about an hour.” He released her and she made her way below.

~*~*~

Killian entered his quarters after docking in Boston. On his bed, Emma was sound asleep, while at the foot, Ingrid read quietly to Anna and Elsa on either side of her. His heart nearly broke at the sight. He had to be strong for them. This was for their safety. This is what was best, for all of them.

Ingrid looked up at him as he drew near the little family. “We’re here, my lambs,” he choked out. Anna and Elsa looked up at him. Anna jumped to her feet on top of the bed and placed both her hands on his cheeks.

“Don’t be sad, Uncle Killian,” she said, “I’ll write letters to you every week telling you all about our adventures.”

Killian shook his head as he took her little hands in his own. “No, my darling,” he insisted, “You will not be able to write letters to me. You mustn’t contact me at all. Not until Emma is all grown up. When she is, you’ll all be able to come back to me and we can be together again. Is that okay?” He cocked his head toward her as he awaited her answer. When her brow furrowed without one, he continued. “I have to keep you safe, my lamb. And this is the only way to do it. That’s why we have to do this. Why we have to be apart for a little while. When the danger is past, we can be together again.”

The furrow remained on her brow as she raised her eyes to his. “Okay, Uncle Killian.” She nodded decisively. “But I’ll miss you.”

“And I will miss you, my lamb,” he promised, gathering her in his arms. He held his other arm out for Elsa as she launched herself toward him, sobs choking her. Killian closed his eyes as he held these little girls that he loved so much in his arms. After a few minutes, he carried them to the hatch and placed them on the ladder to the deck. They scrambled up as Ingrid came toward him, carrying Emma, still sound asleep.

Killian took her precious cargo so she could climb the ladder then followed along behind her. Reaching the deck, he saw that Ingrid already had Emma’s stroller opened up and he could lay her right down in it. He turned and pressed a kiss into her brow. “I love you, my Swan. I will see you again,” he murmured, setting her down and arranging her so that she could sleep peacefully until she had to awaken. He picked up his end of the stroller as Ingrid grabbed the handle and her own suitcase and carried the stroller containing the sleeping toddler across the deck and down the gangplank. Anna and Elsa followed behind with their own suitcases. Finally depositing the stroller on the quay, he turned back toward them. Kneeling down and opening his arms to them, they ran and nearly knocked him over with the force of their hugs.

“We love you, Uncle Killian,” they cried.

“And I love you, my lambs,” he replied. “Never forget that. We’ll be together again soon. I promise.” He disentangled himself and turned to Ingrid once more.

He gathered her in his arms, whispering endearments into her hair. “It’s okay, Ingrid,” he murmured, “I love you. You can do this. I’ll see you again.”

“I love you too, Killian,” she echoed. “And yes, we’ll see you again.” She pulled back, out of his arms and turned to the girls. “Make sure you have everything. Anna, hand on the stroller.” The tears were gone from her voice, her head held high and her back straight as her brood gathered their suitcases. There was his strong lass. Pride and love for her filled his heart to overflowing. She grabbed her own suitcase and pushing the stroller before her, made her way toward the street without looking back.

“Until we meet again, my loves,” Killian murmured before ascending the gangplank once more to make the journey home.

~*~*~

It was nearly midnight when Killian arrived home that evening. He didn’t expect Starkey to meet him at the door at this hour, but he also didn’t expect to find him being held by Rumplestiltskin in the middle of the morning room, much like the monster had held his brother four hundred years before.

The terror in Starkey’s eyes brought him to a halt. “Welcome home,” the demon singsonged, eyes seeking his own from over his captive’s shoulder, not loosening his grip a single iota.

“What are you doing here,” he growled, anger flowing through him as he advanced on the imp. He wasn’t frozen this time and he wondered if it was possible that the devil had forgotten to do it, or if he had some other plan for him.

“Why must you always insist on asking questions that you already know the answer to,” the monster demanded, giggling. The giggle was suddenly cut off as if with a knife. “I want to know where she is.” His words were slow, deliberate. Carefully enunciated so that Killian knew exactly to whom he was referring.

Righteous anger at this breach of his sanctuary and threatened murder of someone under his protection flooded him. Killian met the eyes of his sire with his own, knowing that Rumple would see nothing of value when their gazes locked. “Who?” he asked.

“Do you really think that now is a good time to antagonize me,” the creature hissed. Killian couldn’t help the little thrill of triumph that skittered across his skin at his opponent’s obvious anger. Looking more closely at his nemesis, his eyes widened as he became aware of something that, he was sure, the imp intended to keep hidden.

Rumplestiltskin was nervous. All of these centuries, he had always held the upper hand. It was why he would always come back. Taunting him, manipulating him, reminding him who held the power. Until now. It hadn’t occurred to his sire that he’d be able to throw off the yoke of oppression that had kept him exactly where the devil had wanted him all these years. The plans and provisions that had been made, long before they were needed, had finally given Killian the upper hand, and the beast was thoroughly rattled by that.

As this realization came over him, pictures that he knew came from his enemy flooded his mind. A wicked looking dagger with Rumplestiltskin’s name on the blade held in the hand of the Blue Fairy. Knowledge that it had the power to kill the monster before him and of where to find it. Killian’s eyes skittered to where his sire’s gold tipped cane lay forgotten on the floor.

With an inhuman howl of rage, Rumplestiltskin threw Starkey to the side like a rag doll. The sickening crack of his skull on the marble floor echoed through the room, but Killian couldn’t do anything about that now. Not with this animal racing to attack.

Killian met this scourge on his entire existence halfway. Blood red eyes shone, exposed fangs glinted in the bright artificial light coming from the kitchen, as Killian crouched and drove his shoulder directly into the rabid creature's abdomen. He flipped over Killian’s shoulder and crashed through the floor to ceiling window behind him, landing flat on his back, briefly knocking the breath out of him.

As Killian came to stand over him, he could see Rumplestiltskin’s face twist in pure malevolence as he struggled to catch his breath. He placed his boot right over his solar plexus and ground down. Only his age as a vampire could explain how quickly he was able to overcome his vulnerability. He screamed in malice, the pitch of his voice rising to the point where Killian nearly stepped away in order to cover his ears. “HOW CAN YOU SEE THAT? NO ONE KNOWS THAT! I WANT HER! WHY CAN’T I SEE HER? TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!”

Killian lifted his enemy from the ground, grabbing the top of his head. He pulled as hard as he could, forcing his head back as he hissed in the cursed creature's ear. “I don’t know where she is and you are never going to find her. We are going to defeat you, Rumplestiltskin. I swore that I would destroy you, and when my love comes back to me, we will find you and fulfill that oath.” Holding the monster tightly in his arms, Killian dove in, piercing his sire’s flesh with his fangs. Blood flooded his mouth as he drank deeply. This time, he was able to shield his mind so that all his attention, all his concentration was focused on the blood. There was nothing else. Nothing to fear giving away and nothing to fear receiving from the evil creature. Rumplestiltskin continued to scream and struggle against him, but it was no use. He grew weaker and weaker as Killian continued to feed.

In a last, desperate attempt to free himself from Killian’s iron embrace, the devil was actually able to free one of its arms and reach for the back of his head. Killian took the opportunity to tear open the monster’s neck, blood spraying everywhere, exposing muscle, tendon, and sinew. The arm fell lifeless to his side and the demon was finally still.

Killian held no illusions that he was actually dead. He could already see the wounds he inflicted stitching together. He knew he had only a few minutes to save Starkey, if he wasn’t already dead, and get Rumplestiltskin out of his home. He dropped the animal at his feet and made his way to where Starkey lay, motionless. He breathed a sigh of relief when he could discern a faint heartbeat and a shallow breath. Piercing his own wrist with his fangs, he held it to Starkey’s lips and let just a few drops land on his tongue. Now confident that his butler would be fine, he turned back to where he had left Rumplestiltskin.

The Blue Fairy stood over the still unconscious creature. Killian’s eyes widened in surprise, then anger.

“What are _you_ doing here?” he shouted, advancing on her. She gave no sign that she had heard him. In the face of her silence, he couldn’t help but ask the question that had plagued him for centuries. “Where have you been all these years?”

The fairy raised her face to his, sorrow swirling in the depths of her brown eyes. “There is no time to answer the many questions and righteous anger that you have right now. They can wait until after I’ve dealt with,” a sneer crossed her features as she looked down at the imp, “this.” The fairy waved her wand over the still motionless creature. He was enveloped in a cloud of blue smoke and disappeared.

Killian was startled. “Where did he go?” he asked, “Where did you send him?”

“Somewhere far from here,” the fairy answered. “Now,” she continued, looking toward him again and squaring her shoulders, “I am at your disposal.” Killian stood staring at the fairy, stunned speechless. The stuttering inhale, determined tilt of her chin, and ramrod straight posture told him that she truly was ready to face whatever questions that he had for her. He ushered her back into the kitchen and prepared them both some tea.

“Why now?” he asked, laying out the tea and sitting next to her at the table. “Where have you been all these years?” That had to be first. He had to know why she had failed so completely in her sworn protection of his family.

The Blue Fairy bowed her head in shame. “When your father sent you and Liam to negotiate that treaty, he was acting on the information that I gave him. Rumplestiltskin was, by that time, a master at manipulating magic and he appeared to be gathering his forces in order to make good his threat upon your family. Your father wanted you both to be safe, so he sent you away. I learned too late that it was nothing more than a diversion. By that time, Liam was already dead and you had disappeared.”

She looked up at his face, obviously trying to gauge how he was taking this information. He refused to let her off the hook. He already knew all this, he wanted to know about the intervening centuries. “I, of course, knew exactly where you were and what had happened to you.” Her eyes turned pleading, filling with tears. “You have to understand. Please, I was Fairy Godmother to your family for generations. I knew your father’s great-grandfather. I have loved your family for centuries before you were even born. I… I couldn’t face your father and mother. I couldn’t be the one to tell them what had happened to you. What had happened to you both.” She bowed her head again. “I was a coward. I failed in my oath, and then I abandoned my family. My duty. Since then, I’ve tried to make it right. I have watched over you, protected and prospered you.”

Killian couldn’t help but snort. “Protected me? You call letting Rumplestiltskin nearly sink the _Jolly_ , multiple times due to magical storms, protecting me?”

She gave him an unamused eyebrow raise. “No, I call keeping you from falling overboard during those storms protecting you. And keeping the Black Death away from you, both while you were in London, and when it was unleashed on your ship. Those are some of the ways I protected you over the years. You may be a vampire, but you are still subject to some of the frailties of your human body.”

“I see,” he replied. His fury drained away, becoming compassion. He took a deep breath and turned gentle eyes on her. “I understand. If I had been in your position…” he trailed away, “I don’t think I’d have done much differently.”

“Thank you,” she said, sincerely.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. “Why now?” He repeated his question from earlier. “Why show yourself now? If you’ve been watching and protecting me all these years, why are you now letting me know that?”

The Blue Fairy fixed him with a fierce stare. “Because you are correct in saying that this time, you and Emma will succeed. Rumplestiltskin and the Darkness have served their purpose in history and their time is rapidly coming to an end. It is your time now. Your’s and your soulmate’s.”

Understanding dawned on Killian. “It was you,” he breathed, “You wrote the prophecy.” The fairy nodded. “You made Emma my soulmate. You’ve brought us together all these times.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “And each time I brought you together, Rumplestiltskin has managed to work circumstances in his own favor and ensure that you and your soulmate were never able to fulfill the prophecy. This time, however, you have been able to do the same. This time is your time. Live your life in peace until Emma returns to you. Once she does, the clock will begin ticking. Rumplestiltskin will also return and you will have to face him. The visions you had revealed the way to defeat him.”

Killian startled. “What? How do you know about that?”

She laughed. “I was the one who gave them to you, Killian,” she exclaimed. “I made that dagger when Rumplestiltskin became a vampire in order to destroy him and the Darkness forever. When I was unable to accomplish that back then, he enchanted the dagger so that I can’t even touch it. But you, or your soulmate, can. Use the knowledge I’ve given you. It will serve you well.”

“Can you tell me anything about Emma,” he begged. “Why her? What makes her my soulmate? Does she know? Has she ever known? Will she know?”

“True Love’s magic,” the fairy answered, “You were both created out of True Love. True Love that has carried down through the centuries. That is what made her FOR you. To answer your question ‘has she known’, she has felt the connection with you in the past. Not as strongly as you. Your senses are enhanced because of what you are. But she has not recognized it for what it truly was. Except that time in Chicago. She was so close to death, that she did recognize your connection. This time, when she returns, she will again. The True Love that you will hold together will destroy the Darkness forever.”

Killian’s eyes widened at the revelation that he was also created out of True Love. He knew that Emma was. He had seen it first hand in David and Mary Margaret. And while he knew that his parents loved each other deeply, hearing from the fairy’s own lips that they were also True Love, made Killian’s heart soar. “What about now? Is she safe?” he worried.

“Know that Emma and her family are safe, and will continue to be. She will return and the path forward will be laid before you.” Killian sat back, lost in thought, mind swirling with all the revelations of the night. The fairy was silent for a few minutes before she cleared her throat and stood from the table. “And now, I must bid you farewell, Killian Jones.”

Killian was brought back to the kitchen and company before him. “Thank you,” he breathed, sincerely, “I won’t waste the knowledge or opportunity you’ve blessed me with.” Nodding, she waved her wand, shrinking down to the size of his hand and disappeared into the night.

Turning back toward Starkey, Killian was gratified that his heart rate and breathing were steady. He picked the man up easily and carried him toward his own apartments a little further down the wing. He knew that come morning, he was going to have a lot of explaining to do. But as he refused to exercise his powers of persuasion or compulsion on his faithful servant of many years, there was no other way around it. After making sure he was comfortable in his own bed, he climbed the stairs to his own chambers.

Laying down on his own bed, Killian finally allowed the emotion of the day to wash over him. What had started out as any other day became one of the worst and then one of the best of his long, long life. He had answers. Emma and her family were safe. He was assured that he would see her again. He’d been patient before, he could do it again.

With a smile on his lips, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? Happy, right?


	7. Ch. 6 Of Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19 years after leaving Killian in Massachusetts, Emma returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a lot of canon moments in this chapter, I hope you enjoy!!!

**19yrs later**

Emma Swan Fisher drove down the meandering gravel road that purported to lead to the address, and the man, written on the envelope tucked into her purse. Purported, because she had left the main road almost three minutes ago and there was still no sign of the house. She finally came around a bend and laid eyes on the… her jaw dropped, eyes nearly bugging out of her head. It was a mansion, there was no other word for it. She pulled into a courtyard in front of the most magnificent home she had ever seen. Realizing what she probably looked like, her jaw snapped shut. Being seen gaping like a fish wouldn’t exactly be the best first impression.

Climbing the stairs to the front porch, she could see into the house through the top half of the door. It was designed like a farmhouse window with wood mullions dividing the glass into smaller windows so that she could easily see in. The doorbell echoed as a tall, older gentleman came toward the door. She stepped back as she waited for him to answer.

He opened the door and a gasp left his lips. “Miss Emma?” Surprise colored his words and his face. She stepped back further in alarm at his question, nearly taking a tumble off the steps. He reached out, catching her before she could fall. He was clothed in black slacks and white shirt, open at the top with the sleeves rolled up. He was probably a little old to be sporting a mostly grey ponytail, she guessed him to be in his late 50’s, early 60’s.

“Do I know you?” she asked, regaining her balance. He still held on to her by the elbow and she had to stop herself from jerking away from him. He was only trying to help her.

He looked down and chuckled. “No,” he admitted, “I don’t expect you do, Miss. But I certainly remember you, although you were only a wee lass when last I saw you.” He looked back up at her with a broad smile. “I expect that you are here for Master Killian.”

“Uh, yes,” she agreed.

“Please come in, lass,” he invited, “I’m Starkey, his butler.” He held the door open for her and followed her into a bright, sunny room with floor to ceiling windows opposite letting in the late morning light. She followed him through several rooms, all sporting spectacular views of green lawns sloping down to the Atlantic, before he led her out to a screened-in porch, where she could just discern the waves breaking on the beach and the salty sea air wrapped around her like a blanket. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything so beautiful and peaceful in all her life. “I’ll let Master Killian know that you’re here.”

“Thank you.” She nodded at him as he left the room. She was still stunned at the reception she had received when he had opened the door. It made the relationship that her mother must have had with this Killian Jones much more clear. If the butler knew who she was, and remembered her after all this time, they must have been very close, indeed. But if they were so close, why had Emma never heard of him? She knew, of course, that she had been born in Boston, and that the family had moved back to her mother’s birthplace in Minnesota when she was three. She’d been so young when they left Massachusetts, it never occurred to her to ask about their years there when she was growing up. She had a feeling though, that she was soon to get a crash course about that time of her life.

She couldn’t decide if she was dreading it or excited about the prospect.

Emma shook her head. It didn’t matter. She had come here today for one purpose. To hand deliver this letter, written by her recently deceased mother, to the closest friend she had ever had. She had been given this task just a few weeks before Ingrid died. Emma sighed. Those days had been a blur. Anna and Elsa returning home, home health nurses around the clock, being woken in the middle of the night with the news that the end was near, sobbing in her sisters’ arms after she was gone, taking care of legal affairs, it was a miracle that she remained sane. Once everything had calmed down, she knew she had to fulfill her promise. So here she was. Her past had no bearing on what she was here to do. It had no bearing on her future. She’d deliver the letter and leave, duty fulfilled.

Suddenly, Emma felt a familiar shiver race down her spine. It had been awhile since she’d felt it, but not so long that it was wholly unfamiliar. She had felt a similar shiver occasionally over the years when she’d visited Boston with her college friends on the weekends. Especially when they visited the North End. But now, the tingling she’d felt under her skin when she entered the gates of the estate, intensified into full body chills before coalescing around her heart and almost tugging her back toward the main house. She turned away from the view of the ocean back into the house, only to meet another vision in the form of the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.

A myriad of emotions paraded themselves across his beautiful features. Relief, joy, sadness, excitement, something else that she wouldn’t name. He looked at her as someone would look at their greatest pride and joy, and dearest love all at once.

“Emma,” he breathed.

Emma stepped toward the man slowly, trying to bring her racing heartbeat under control. Her steps faltered slightly as she approached him, trying to catalog everything about his appearance. He was young. Way _too_ young to be a close friend to her 57 year old mother. He didn’t look to be any older than she was. His black hair was gently mussed as if he had a habit of running his hands through it, black scruff with just a hint of ginger, the bluest eyes she’d ever seen (and given the blue eyes of her mother and sisters, that was saying a lot). He was dressed casually in jeans and a gray pullover that stretched enticingly across his chest and biceps. She couldn’t help but wonder at the strength of those muscles and how they’d feel underneath her hands. A shiver of desire ran through her that she promptly squashed. _Whoa! Where did that come from?_ She ran her tongue across her lips as her eyes met his. The tightness in her chest subsided briefly but then intensified as she approached him. Along with the tightness, a wave of dizziness overcame her so suddenly that her knees buckled and she nearly fell at his feet before he caught her in his strong arms.

“Emma,” he cried, “Are you all right?” His clear concern for her well being took the edge off the embarrassment she felt showing that kind of weakness to a virtual stranger.

“Y- yes,” she stammered, “I’m fine. Thank you.” She clutched at his forearms as she gathered her legs back under her and attempted to stand.

“Here,” He lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the small table in the breakfast nook before setting her down on one of the chairs. “How about I make us some hot chocolate? See if we can’t get you feeling a bit better.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “Hot chocolate would be great.”

A few minutes later, Emma watched as her host placed two hot chocolates with whipped cream and cinnamon on the small table and sat down opposite her.

“How did you know how I liked my hot chocolate,” she asked, with a small smile.

A sad smile crossed his face as he shrugged. “Lucky guess. This was how Ingrid liked to drink hers.”

Emma took a sip of her drink. “I’m so sorry about that, Mr. Jones,” she apologized, with a shake of her head.

He waved away her apology. “No need to apologize, lass. I’m just glad that your color is a little better now that you have some ‘elixir of the gods’ in you, as Ingrid used to call it. And please,” his penetrating blue gaze seemed to pierce to her very soul, “call me Killian.” She nodded, unable to look away from the intensity of his gaze.

“It’s been many years since you and your family left Massachusetts, Emma.” He looked into her eyes, hope and a shyness that she didn’t expect swirling in their depths. She couldn’t explain this unexpected draw to him, but she wanted to stick around and try to get to the bottom of the mystery connecting this man to her family. “How is your mom? Your sisters?”

Emma was brought back to the man before her with the mention of her mother. “Oh, I’d nearly forgotten,” she exclaimed, reaching into her purse with the letter. “That’s why I’m here.” She handed the envelope to him. “My mom asked me to hand deliver this to you.” She looked down and tried to swallow over the sudden lump in her throat. He gently took it from her and she heard the rip of him tearing it open.

She looked up when he’d been silent for several moments reading the letter in his hands. Sorrow sat upon his brow and his eyes were very red, as if he were trying to hold back tears. He folded it back up and laid it on the table between them.

“So Ingrid is dead,” he sighed.

“Yes.”

“When your family didn’t come back four years ago and there was no contact, I was afraid that something like this might have happened,” he murmured. “Tell me,” he pleaded.

The clear anguish and sorrow on his face nearly broke her heart anew. She couldn’t possibly refuse him this, no matter how much she wanted to question him.

“The uterine cancer won in the end,” she began, haltingly. “She was diagnosed just before Christmas of my senior year in high school, 2012. Being so close to the Mayo Clinic, she was able to be treated there.”

Killian nodded. “They’re the best at what they do. I’m glad they were able to treat her.”

“She went into remission just before Anna and I graduated. Anna got her degree in graphic design from the Minneapolis College of Art and Design and was planning a fall wedding, so,” she shrugged, “perfect timing.”

“Indeed.” His blue eyes bore into hers sending even more shivers of attraction down her spine that she felt helpless to stop.

“The type of cancer it was,” she continued, “we always knew there was a good chance of it coming back. We were planning on moving back here after I graduated, I was accepted to Harvard, but we decided that she should stay close to her doctors.” Killian nodded at her to continue. “She stayed healthy all through my years at Harvard, but…” here she faltered, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed again. “It came back. She told us the day after I graduated. She was dead three months later.”

Killian bowed his head in sorrow. “It’s taken this long for the estate to get settled and all the legal proceedings to wind up. I’m sorry.”

His head snapped back up again. “You have nothing to be sorry for, lass,” he choked out. “I’m glad you were able to come and give me the news in person, though. I wouldn’t have wanted to find out any other way.”

Emma could feel the blush rising on her face. “It was nothing,” she demurred, “I promised Mom.”

A few moments passed in silence before finally, Killian spoke. “Tell me about your sisters,” he encouraged. “Is Elsa still the quiet one?”

Emma laughed heartily. “As opposed to Anna? Yes! Absolutely!”

Killian chuckled. “I’ll never forget watching Anna learn to walk. She only walked for about a week and then she ran.” He chuckled again, shaking his head. “And never stopped.”

Emma laughed again. “That is still true. Anna is a bundle of energy. She surely needs it now...”

“Tell me about Elsa and Anna,” he repeated. “How are they?” Emma lightly shook her head, trying to focus on his question about her sisters instead of the obvious confusion surrounding his memory of her twenty-six year old sister.

“Elsa came home,” Emma began, “after Mom was first diagnosed. She took a job with the St. Paul Chamber of Commerce and has made such a difference in the business community since then, that she’s running for Mayor, and doing very well in the polls. She’s also dating a guy she met at some shindig last year.” She laughed as Killian’s face fell into a tight frown. He certainly had the disapproving Dad look nailed.

“Well, tell me about _him,_ ” he very nearly growled. Emma couldn’t hold back her grin. “His name is Jack Frost, owns his own, very popular, restaurant, he’s 30, and treats her like a queen.”

Killian relaxed. “As long as he treats her right, I have no objection,” he huffed. Emma couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her. Killian’s face broke into a sheepish grin as his face and ears turned red and he scratched behind his ear again. Doubtless he realized just how ridiculous he sounded. His slight bashfulness was adorable as well as the protective instincts he just displayed. “And what about Anna?”

“Anna and Kristoff welcomed their first child, Aggie, last summer. They named him after Anna’s father.” A soft smile broke over her face. “Here’s a picture of Ingrid holding him,” she continued, pulling out her phone. “He was born about a month before she died.”

His smile matched hers. “I’m glad she was able to see and hold him.”

The bittersweet moment ended when Emma put her phone back away. Killian looked back up at her. “He’s obviously taking after Anna,” she added. “He has two speeds. On and off. He just started walking.” She couldn’t stop her smile from widening as she thought about her nephew. She looked back over at Killian who sported an almost awed joy on his face. How had she been drawn in so quickly and easily to this man? A man she had grown up not even knowing of his existence, and had only finally met such a short time ago. She couldn’t believe how easy he was to talk to, to share intimate details of the lives of her family with.

“And now, what about yourself, lass? You said you attended Harvard?” he asked.

“Yes,” she smiled, proudly. “I studied Sociology with a concentration in Family and Adoption.” She could feel her cheeks heating up. “I’m thinking about going to law school so that I could specialize in adoptions.” She shrugged and looked away from him. “Given our family history…” she trailed away.

She looked back up at him to see his face split in the widest grin she had ever seen. “I don’t think I could be more proud of you,” he murmured. “That’s wonderful, Emma.”

She could feel the blush spreading again but she maintained eye contact with him, basking in his praise. Why was she so receptive to him? So willing to accept his admiration. She barely knew him!

She fixed him with a hard, confused stare. “Okay, now it’s my turn.” Killian scratched behind his ear in what she recognized as a nervous tic. Something wasn’t right here and physical attraction aside, she was determined to get to the bottom of it. “How exactly did you know my mom? She said that you were her best friend. You tell me stories of my twenty-six year old sister as a toddler. But you don’t look any older than I am.”

Killian chuckled and his ears turned red again as he took a sip of his drink. “I’m much older than I look, lass,” he admitted.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Descendant of Numenor, blessed with long life,” she sassed.

He chuckled again. “Not quite.”

“So how old are you?”

“I’m a lot older than I look.” He fixed her with just as hard a stare as she’d leveled at him. “Let’s just leave it at that. But believe me when I tell you, that not only was I Ingrid’s closest friend, she was also mine.”

His cerulean gaze spoke to the deepest part of her. She knew that he was telling her the truth. Emma prided herself on being able to tell when someone was lying. A sixth sense, so to speak, that was unfailingly accurate if someone was trying to feed her a load of bull. That sixth sense was eerily silent at his statements.

She nodded. “Okay.” She had no idea why she was backing down. Yes, he was telling her the truth, but he wasn’t telling her all of it. How could he be when he didn’t look as old as Anna was now, much less old enough to be such an intimate friend of her mother? She didn’t want to let him off the hook quite so easily, but the quickening of her heartbeat and the tug she felt toward him ever since seeing him for the first time only confirmed what everything else about this encounter pointed toward. The reception she had received, both from him and his butler, and his obvious love for her mother and knowledge of her sisters, all combined to tell her one thing. She was exactly where she belonged. She was home. She knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that she could trust this man in front of her. Knowing that was one thing, acting on it however, was quite another.

“Please,” she begged. “I do trust you. I just want to know your connection with my family.” She knew that she was treading on thin ice, pushing him on this, but she couldn’t help the natural curiosity and desire to put together the puzzle that had been presented her in this man.

“Perhaps that would be a better topic of conversation at a more… neutral location.” Her brow furrowed at his words. “I will answer all your questions. You have my word. I have a lunch appointment that I must depart for soon in order to make, but may I escort you to dinner this evening?”

Emma’s eyebrows jumped nearly to her hairline. “Are you asking me on a date? You just met me!” she exclaimed.

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” He chuckled. “Then yes, I guess I am.” His face turned serious, his eyes burning into hers, sending her heart rate into a gallop. “Would you go out with me, Swan?”

“What did you say?” She felt the blood drain from her face. “Why did you call me that?”

Killian also paled. “It’s your middle name. Anna thought you should have it because of your birthmark.” Her hand rose to her neck where her birthmark was. “Ingrid told me on the day you were born.” He rose from the table and kneeled before her, holding out his hand. “Please, Emma,” he begged, “I know it seems crazy.”

“Yes, it does,” she exclaimed, standing to her feet, her heart galloping in her chest. “Much older than you look? Telling me about the day I was born and when Anna learned to walk? Do you know what you sound like?”

Killian looked down at the floor. “Like a madman, I’m sure.” He looked back up at her, his azure eyes pleading. “And if your face is telling me anything, you’re ready to run out my door and never come back.”

“How can you know that?” she whispered.

His eyes grew soft as they gazed into her own. “I hope you’ll forgive me for saying so, but you’re something of an open book.” He cocked his head to the side as he looked at her awaiting her answer. “Please give me a chance.”

She continued to stare at him, the two opposing voices in her head vying for dominance. The one telling her that it was too much, it was too soon, the mystery of the man in front of her didn’t matter. This, _he_ , was dangerous and she would be well served to run as fast and as far away as she could. But the second voice spoke from her heart and told her what she already knew. She could trust him. She could look in his eyes and see how much he cared for her, how much he _loved_ her. She didn’t understand how it was possible, but she knew that everything he had told her today was the truth. That piece of her heart, that she never knew she had until today, responded back to his. She placed her hand in his outstretched one.

Killian’s face rivaled the sun at noon as his fingers curled around her own. He rose to his feet before her. “Thank you, Swan.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed her knuckles with his lips, never taking his eyes off of hers. A gasp escaped her as her heart rate sped up even further with a flood of arousal coming over her. He turned her hand over in his own and closed his eyes as he seemed to inhale deeply, drawing his nose along the inside of her wrist. He held his breath for several seconds before slowly letting it out, his warm breath brushing along her skin and raising goosebumps in his wake. His eyes opened and met hers again. “Where may I pick you up this evening?”

Emma swallowed heavily, trying to will her heart rate to slow down. “I’m at The Harborside Inn.”

“I know exactly where it is,” he declared. “I’ll see you at 8.”

~*~*~

Emma opened the door after his knock rang through the cozy, comfortably furnished room. Her eyes widened in appreciation as her eyes landed on him standing on her threshold. He appeared to be equally speechless.

“You look stunning, Swan,” he breathed.

“I, uh…” He looked to be dressed all in black. From the dark silk shirt and waistcoat, showing just a peek of dark chest hair to the black jeans and boots on his feet. A black leather jacket completed the ensemble. The same tingling under her skin she felt earlier intensified into the full body chills and heart tug yet again as her eyes raked hungrily over him. “Thank you.”

His appearance made her doubly grateful that she had done some shopping that afternoon after leaving his estate. She had found a small boutique near her hotel and was helped by a perky blonde saleslady who helped her find the perfect dress and accessories for her date tonight. She wore a pink flowing number with cap sleeves and a v neckline paired with nude pumps while pulling her hair back into a high ponytail. If his widened eyes and shortness of breath were any indication, she did good.

He shook himself out of his apparent daze and held out his arm to her. “Shall we, milady?”

“We shall,” she replied, smiling and slipping her arm through his.

He led her downstairs and out the back toward the pier. Her eyes widened in surprise as they landed on a full sized ship that looked straight out of Pirates of the Caribbean. Killian preened beside her at her reaction. “Is that yours?” she asked, flabbergasted.

“She is, indeed,” he replied, proudly. “Behold, the Jolly Roger!”

She couldn’t wipe the shock off her face if she tried. She turned to him, mouth hanging open. “The Jolly Roger? Like from _Peter Pan_? Are you serious?”

He led her up the gangplank and down onto the deck of the ship. A chuckle escaped his lips and a delighted grin adorned his features as his eyes danced. “ _Peter Pan_ is my favorite book of all time. Although I’m definitely partial to Captain Hook. So, of course, I had to name her the Jolly Roger.”

She couldn’t help but smile back at him as he led her to the helm. “So, where are we going that it takes a ship to get there?”

Killian’s grin grew even more, if possible. “I got in touch with an old friend of mine this afternoon. He owns a restaurant on the other side of the island. Very upscale, very popular, reservation only. It’s booked solid for the next three years. Most of the menu changes daily according to what the fishermen bring in, but his lobster dishes are the best to be found in all of New England. He was very pleased to arrange an extra seating for us this evening.” Killian drew her into his side as he steered the ship away from the pier and out to the open water. “The Nautilus is right on the water and we can pull in right there and enjoy our meal.” His eyes sparkled in the moonlight as he looked down at her. She couldn’t suppress the shiver his gaze engendered as she returned his scrutiny. There it was again. The bone deep certainty that she was home. That at his side was where she was supposed to be. Her gaze drifted to his lips as his tongue peeked out between them. He cleared his throat, drawing her eyes back up to his. The hunger she saw there nearly took her breath away.

He looked back out over the water as the lights of Edgartown faded behind them. But she would have none of it. Throwing caution to the wind, she reached up and cupped his face in her hands and turned his face toward her again before drawing him into a kiss.

Killian groaned into her mouth as she opened in invitation. He gathered her to him even more tightly, her body lining up perfectly to his. Her earlier thought about how his muscles would feel under her hands came back to mind as her own hands wrapped around his biceps as their tongues tangled until she pulled away trying to catch her breath.

“That was…” Killian trailed away, his forehead resting on hers.

“Yeah,” she breathed.

~*~*~

“Killian!” an older bald man exclaimed striding towards them with his arm outstretched.

“Nemo!” Killian called out. Emma immediately mourned the loss of heat when Killian removed his hand from the small of her back to greet his friend. The men met halfway and clasped hands before pulling each other into an affectionate embrace. Emma couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie between them.

Killian led his friend back to where she stood. The genuine smile that lit up his features put her even more at ease at meeting someone who clearly meant a lot to him.

“Emma, I’d like you to meet Captain Nemo,” he introduced. Her face broke into a delighted grin to match his own. “Nemo, my old friend, this is Emma Fisher.” He shot her a bashful, almost apologetic look as Nemo took her hand in between his.

“It is so lovely to meet you, my dear,” he enthused, pumping her hand up and down. “When Killian called this afternoon, I was delighted to add one more seating to the evening.” He cut his eyes back toward Killian. “We’ve been friends a very long time, but it’s also been a very long time since I’ve seen him. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see this one again.”

“It’s very nice to meet you as well, Captain,” she replied. “ _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_ is one of my favorite adventures from when I was a kid.”

Nemo beamed at her even more than he already was. “I’m so glad! It is also my favorite story. I very much identified with Captain Nemo for many, many years, before I met Killian in the course of my travels. It was his influence that turned me onto a better, nobler path.” Mirth and a bit of mischief could be seen in his eyes as he looked at Killian again.

Killian blushed and scratched behind his ear. The move was even more endearing now, in the presence of his friend, than it was earlier.

“But enough about that,” Nemo continued, “Let me show you to your table.” Killian’s hand returned to the small of her back as they followed Nemo through the large, but very intimate dining room. The low lights and ample space between tables, she could only see five, created an ambiance that sent a flutter of awareness down her spine as they followed their host into another, much smaller room. It contained a single table, set for two. Emma gasped at the loveliness of the setting. The small table was covered by a white tablecloth that fell to the floor. A tall, navy blue pillar candle in a hurricane lamp with a ring of yellow buttercups around the base adorned the center of the table. Killian came around her and held her chair out for her.

“So now you’re going to be a gentleman?” She smirked at him.

“I’m always a gentleman, Swan,” he cooed, his warm breath brushing the shell of her ear as she sat down. She sent him a small smile as he removed his jacket and seated himself across from her.

Their waiter approached to fill their water glasses. “What may I bring you to drink?” Nemo asked, stepping aside to give the waiter room.

“A bottle of the Premier Cru Les Vaillons 2015, if you please, sir,” Killian decided. He leaned over to her, whispering, “An excellent vintage for the lobster that’s being served tonight.” She nodded her acknowledgement before looking up at their host again.

“Excellent choice,” Nemo agreed. “I’ll get that right out to you and your meals will be out shortly.” Nemo and their waiter disappeared and she was finally able to direct her attention to her company for the evening. She could see the flickering yellow candlelight in his eyes that sparkled in the low lighting. His pupils dilated as he watched her, whether from the lighting or desire, she couldn’t tell.

His eyes grew dark when she lightly wet her lips. She returned his obvious admiration until Nemo returned with their wine. “Your Lobster Thermidor is being prepared as we speak,” he informed them as he poured their wine. “The lobster was harvested this very afternoon after I spoke with you, Killian. It will be served with a simple green salad topped with a light herb vinaigrette and couscous.” Nemo backed away and gave a slight bow to the couple. “It was truly a pleasure to meet you, Emma and I hope you both enjoy your evening here at the Nautilus.”

Killian smiled. “Thank you, my friend. I’m sure we will.” Nemo withdrew and left them alone.

Conversation was light as they waited for their meals. Ranging from favorite books and television shows to a quite vigorous debate on whether Peter Jackson’s _Hobbit_ movies lived up to his _Lord of the Rings_ saga. Casual and light touches did nothing to quell the simmering desire brought up by their earlier kiss. Aware of the desire in his eyes, and sending him a sultry smile back, she knew there was only one way she wanted the evening to end. Once their meals arrived, they both dug into the succulent dish accompanied, on her part, with moans of delight as she’d never tasted anything so delicious. Killian appeared spellbound as she swirled a piece of bread in the last of the creamy sauce left behind on her plate. She looked up at him and was gratified to see the desire in his eyes as she opened her mouth and laid the piece of bread on her tongue before closing her lips around her fingers and drawing them out of her mouth.

Normally, she wouldn’t be so bold as to play the blatant seductress, but the connection she had felt with him, even after she had left him earlier today, plus the effect of the wine was definitely playing a part in her attempts to flirt. He ran his tongue across his lips and a different kind of hunger colored his countenance before he seemed to shake himself out from under her spell. She couldn’t help the stab of disappointment she felt when he looked down at their table.

“Before this goes any further, Emma…” he looked up and his voice trailed away. The darkness of his eyes flashed blood red and a rage that she had only read about took over his visage.

Her sharp intake of breath and her face going pale snapped him out of whatever had overtaken him. He turned conciliatory and concerned eyes upon her. “Emma, are you all right?” He reached out and grabbed her hand with his own.

“Am I alright? What about you?” she asked. “What was that?” She turned to look behind her where the back of the restaurant was a glass wall looking out on the water. She could see nothing that might have incited the drastic change in her companion. “Your eyes went red and I’ve never seen anyone so angry as what I saw on your face just now.”

He shook his head. Not in denial, but in sorrow. “I’m sorry, Emma. I…” he looked back at her. “I promised to answer all your questions. I didn’t want to do it tonight, I was hoping to postpone that just for a little while. I just wanted us to have a fun evening, as a proper first date should be. A chance to get to know each other a little bit. Enjoy each other's company. But circumstances have changed enough that I see I’m going to have to answer all your questions tonight. And I can only hope that you’ll listen, believe, and not reject me. And what is between us.” He stared earnestly into her eyes, hope and trepidation mixing in his until she couldn’t discern which was stronger.

The connection she felt and the trust she had placed in him prompted her to nod her head at him to continue. But nothing could have prepared her for what came out of his mouth.

“You wanted to know what my connection was to your family.” She nodded. “You wanted to know how old I am.” She nodded again. He swallowed heavily. “I am a 450 year old vampire.”

Emma’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t make sense out of what she had just heard. “W-what?” she stammered.

“Please don’t make me say it out loud again.” He shut his eyes, his anguish etched across his face. “You heard exactly what I said.”

She shook her head. “Yes,” she agreed, “I heard what you said. But…”

“I told you that I was much older than I looked,” he interrupted, “and you said you believed me.” The pleading she saw in his eyes nearly undid her.

“Yes, I believed you. I have a thing about lies.” She shook her head again, trying to clear it, before dropping it into her propped up hands. “I can tell when someone is lying to me. And I know you weren’t.”

“Look at me, please, Emma,” he begged her. She lifted her head and looked into his earnest, forthright eyes. “Everything I will tell you is the truth. You have to trust me,” he pled.

“I trust you,” she whispered.

He nodded and took a deep breath, seemingly to gather himself. “In answer to your first question, my connection with your family is this. I met Ingrid when she was a child,” he began. _Truth._ “I saved her life when her parents were killed.” _Truth._ “I was a close friend and watched her grow up.” _Truth_. “I was there when she took custody of your sisters and when she adopted you.” _Truth._

“I’m telling you all this now because the monster that made me what I am, is here. He’s here for you.” He looked at her again, pleading with her to believe him.

“Why me?”

“We are soulmates,” he asserted. “And we are prophesied to destroy him. Rumplestiltskin.”

She was speechless for a long moment.

“Rumplestiltskin?” she croaked, finally finding her voice. “As in Rumplestiltskin Rumplestiltskin? The fairy tale Rumplestiltskin?”

“All the fairy tales that you know and love, were, at one time, real. They happened to real people. Their true stories have largely been lost, but some still survive in some form. The true story of Rumplestiltskin is much more sinister than the fairy tale you know. He was the first vampire. Created by Darkness from the dawn of time. The baby from the fairy tale was my older brother, Liam. When my mother defeated him, he swore vengeance upon our family. He took that vengeance thirty years later. He murdered Liam, in front of me, and then made me what I am. It was then that I swore vengeance upon him.”

Her heart flooded with compassion for him. The pain of that loss lay plainly upon his brow. She reached out and threaded her fingers through his. He looked up at her, surprised. “I’m so sorry. It may have been hundreds of years ago, but it obviously still pains you.”

He gave her a small smile before looking down at their joined hands. “It does.” He squeezed her hand and ran his thumb along her knuckles. “But this helps.”

“Liam’s murder and my turning happened on the Jolly. In the captain's cabin. I couldn’t return home to my family, so I renamed the ship and became a pirate. In 1650, I found a prophecy in my log book. A prophecy concerning the destruction of Rumplestiltskin. The Blue Fairy, she was the fairy godmother to our family, wrote it. I found it then, but promptly forgot about it until almost sixteen years later. When I met my soulmate for the first time,” his blue eyes bored into hers, “Emma Swan.”

Emma gasped. “Me?”

“You,” he confirmed.

Emma’s head was spinning. As much as she believed him, she _did,_ trying to wrap her mind around everything he had already told her was proving difficult. He was her soulmate. Her _soulmate_! Did soulmates even exist? Apparently they did, given the connection that she’d felt since she met him. She looked over at him, knowing that the trepidation she was feeling had to be written all over her face. He looked at her so earnestly, so hopeful, with so much love. As nervous as he obviously was to begin his story, none of those nerves were in evidence now. He had laid it all out for her and was waiting for her response.

“I…” she stammered.

“There’s more,” he continued.

Emma withdrew her hand from his to drop her face into them. “How much more,” she moaned.

“I can tell you more about yourself,” he admitted, “and your past, I can tell you more about what my life has been like. But if you’d rather I not, you’ve got the most important information. We can save all that for another time, if you prefer.”

She raised her head and waved her hands around. “Yeah, I think I’d appreciate that. Don’t think I’m ready at the moment for any more.”

Killian took one of her hands in his own again. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that our first date took this turn, Emma.”

Captain Nemo approached their table. “How did you enjoy your meal, my friends?” he boomed.

Emma turned to him somewhat startled only to catch a look of significance pass between the two men. “It was w-wonderful,” she stammered. “What?” she questioned, looking back and forth between them. Killian looked back at her, somewhat abashed.

“It’s nothing, Swan,” he contended.

Emma felt the indignation rise underneath her breastbone. She rose from her chair and placed her hands on the table. “Don’t lie to me. I told you I could tell when someone was lying to me.”

Killian’s face immediately fell in shame. “You are absolutely correct, Emma. I apologize.” He motioned back to her chair. “Please sit back down?”

Emma took a deep breath before murmuring her acceptance of his apology and returning to her seat.

“Nemo was relaying what we already knew.” Killian looked back at his friend. “That Rumplestiltskin is outside.”

Emma’s head whipped back to their host so quickly, she heard and felt a _pop_ in her neck. “How do _you_ know?” she asked, astonished.

“I told you, Swan, that he was an old friend.”

Emma turned overwhelmed and incredulous eyes back upon Killian. “Just how old are we talking here?”

Killian’s focus on her face never wavered as he lay yet another truth before her. “Nemo and I have been friends since we met for the first time toward the end of the nineteenth century. Nemo _is_ the Captain Nemo that Jules Verne made famous, in a supposed work of fiction, in the early 1860’s.”

Emma could feel the panic rising up within her, making it hard to breathe. She shook her head again and rose once more. “I don’t think I can handle any more of this.” She could barely look at Killian, not wanting to see the disappointment she was sure was in his eyes. “Captain, would you be so kind as to call me a cab?” She spoke to the table again. “Killian, I can’t… I just can’t right now. Please, just leave me alone.” Pushing her emotions deep down, Emma turned from the table and walked as calmly as she could toward the front of the restaurant.

~*~*~

Nemo approached Killian, still sitting utterly forlorn at the table. “You’re not just going to sit there, are you?” he asked.

Killian looked up incredulously at his friend and rose from the table. “Bloody hell, of course not! With Rumplestiltskin out there? What do you take me for?”

Nemo chuckled. “Just making sure, my friend,” he said, clapping him on the back. “Your cab will be here in moments.”

Grim determination adorned his features. “Thank you, Nemo. I’ll not let anything happen to her. Not this time.”

“I know you won’t,” he replied. “That’s why I asked for two cabs to be sent when I called. I knew you wouldn’t want to let her out of your sight.”

Killian rose from the table and placed his hand on Nemo’s shoulder. “You surmised correctly, my friend.”

“She is still in the lobby, waiting for hers. As soon as they arrive, I’ll get her on her way, and then you can come out. I don’t imagine that she’d want to see you waiting as well.”

“I’d imagine not,” Killian conceded.

Nemo left then toward the front of the restaurant. Killian turned toward the glass wall. “I know you’re there,” he growled, “and you’re not going to get her. Not if I have anything to say about it.” His eyes flashed red, and he stormed out of the room.

~*~*~

Emma stood at the door to her room when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She had understandably felt anxious from the moment she had left The Nautilus. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt exposed and out from under Killian’s protection. She’d had to fight with herself to not rub her arms trying to will away the fear that licked under her skin. But now that fear was intensified for no apparent reason. She opened the door and entered the darkened room, closing and locking the door behind her.

That only made the goosebumps already along her skin tighten even further. The panic from earlier was making a reappearance as she made her way to the bed to turn on the lamp at the bedside table. She drew in a stuttered breath as the lamp cast its soft glow around the room.

A sound she’d never heard the likes of in all her born days drew her attention to the corner of the room. It was a giggle. Of course, she had heard a giggle before, but this was altogether different. It was a sound that she could imagine coming from a homicidal maniac on the big screen or from a creature released from the pits of hell to do what it pleased with the inhabitants of the earth. It was full of a depraved glee that shot waves of terror down her spine.

She turned toward the sound and beheld something that she couldn’t have conceived of in her worst nightmares. Green skin shimmered in the low light, lank hair lay hopelessly tangled around its face, but it was the eyes that forced the scream out of her mouth. At the same instant, the creature waved its hand towards her and the scream was cut off as if with the sharpest knife. She was frozen in place, unable to move as the creature moved deliberately towards her.

She should never have left Killian. It was one thing to listen to what he had to say. It was another to believe and trust him. But it was altogether different to see the things he spoke of alive and in person. At the time, it was a bridge too far to stay with him. And she was going to pay the ultimate price for her folly. She was about to die at the hands of this terrifying monster. Her frozen state notwithstanding, the terror and panic were about to steal her consciousness away. Red eyes and fangs were going to be the last things she ever saw. A lone tear tracked down her cheek. _I’m sorry, Killian._

~*~*~

Killian arrived at Emma’s door with the Blue Fairy only to find it locked. The fairy closed her eyes, apparently trying to ascertain if there was any danger nearby. He knocked on the door.

“Emma, it’s Killian, darling,” he said, as he rattled the door knob in his hand. “Please let me in. I don’t want to leave you alone with Rumplestiltskin still out there.”

The Blue Fairy’s eyes flew open. “He’s in there!” she cried, “He’s in the room with her.”

That was all Killian needed to hear. He backed up and kicked the door in with all his might. His beloved was standing near her bed, frozen. Just as he had been all those years ago. His sire stood several feet away from her yet, not having had enough time to execute his foul plans. Killian rushed to Emma and gathered her frozen form in his arms.

“I’ve got you, my darling,” he crooned in her ear. “I won’t let him hurt you. Blue will take care of him for the moment.” He turned to where the two magical beings were locked in a fierce struggle. Dark and light magic sparked and crackled between the adversaries as they met in the center of the room.

Killian lifted Emma in his arms and called to the Blue Fairy as he ran out of the room. An inhuman howl of rage followed them out as the fairy shrunk down to her normal size and led them out the fire exit into the night. Once they were outside the building, she waved her wand over Emma’s frozen form. The enchantment that held her dissolved and she collapsed into Killian’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry! I never should have left you!” She cried into his shoulder as he held her tightly against him.

“Shhh,” he crooned, stroking her hair. “Shhhhhhh. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” Turning to the fairy who hovered a short distance away, he asked, “Can you transport us to the Jolly? It’s still at The Nautilus.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” she agreed. A cloud of blue smoke enveloped them and the next thing they knew they stood at the helm of the Jolly Roger. They looked into the restaurant where they had enjoyed a marvelous dinner only a short time before and saw Nemo standing at the window. His face was suffused with joy as he raised a hand to them in farewell.

~*~*~

Once they were out to sea, Emma knew they had over half an hour before they’d arrive back at Killian’s estate. She leaned on the gunwale and stared out at the moon and stars shining down on the gentle waves. The chill that pulled her toward Killian was ever present when he was near, but now, she knew he stood just behind her.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked.

“Aye, beautiful,” he murmured.

She couldn’t hold back her smirk. “Why do I have the feeling that you aren’t talking about the same thing I am?”

He mirrored her position against the gunwale and looked down at her. “Perhaps I’m not,” he agreed.

“I’m sorry for running,” she confessed, looking down at her clasped hands. “I just couldn’t…” she paused, searching for the right word, “deal… with everything you were telling me.”

“You’ve no need to apologize, Swan,” he demurred. “Laying all that on you at once, when our attachment was still so new… anyone would have reacted the same.”

“But I nearly lost you,” she began, “because of my foolishness. You almost lost me. If Rumplestiltskin had succeeded, I’d be dead right now and we wouldn’t be able to destroy him.”

Killian turned and gathered her into his arms. “Oh, my darling,” he whispered into her hair. “We are soulmates. Unbound by time. This is the fourth time you’ve lived, and if that monster had taken you again, you’d eventually be reborn again and we’d destroy him next time.” He continued to stroke her back and she could feel the last of the fear and anxiety at what had happened tonight leave her body. With a deep breath, she melted further into his embrace. He pulled back slightly until he could look into her eyes. “I’ve waited centuries for you, my love.” He pulled her back to him. “And I would wait centuries more. I’d go to the end of the world for you. Or time.”

“What if you made me a vampire?” she speculated. She looked back up at him. He was already shaking his head. “Is that possible? Do you know how to do it?” She was starting to get excited. She plowed ahead, even in the face of his reluctance. “Then he couldn’t kill me. I’d be able to stay with you, but we could take our time and formulate a foolproof plan to destroy him, and when _we_ were ready, we could bring the battle to him, instead of always being on the defensive.” She was rambling now, she knew it, but she had to convince him that her idea had merit.

“Emma, I could never inflict on you what was forced on me,” he began.

“But you wouldn’t be inflicting it on me,” she interrupted. “I’m willingly _asking_ for it. Think about it. Please, think about it. Promise me that you will. This will work. If you agree.”

The pleading desperation in her eyes was his undoing. Killian sighed. “I don’t need to think about it,” he acknowledged. “You’re right. Making you a vampire, like me, would give us the greatest weapon available to us, time. And protection for you that in 350 years, I’ve been unable to provide. The night you and your family left Massachusetts, he was waiting for me in my kitchen when I arrived home, holding Starkey captive. I was able to subdue him that night because actions I had taken years beforehand had finally given me the advantage in our strange, centuries long relationship. When that was over, Blue gave me a vision of how to destroy him. But that doesn’t mean that it will be easy, nor that we’d be ready to try it in the near future.” He breathed deeply and released a long, slow exhale. “When we get home, I’ll show you to your room and I want you to _really_ think about this. To really _deal_ with everything you’ve learned tonight. You needn’t fear him breaching our sanctuary. That night, before she left, Blue placed magical barriers around the estate and the Jolly that prevents him from entering.”

Emma rested her head back on his chest, her soul enveloped in peace. Peace only he could give. The peace that came from finding her soulmate. The one she was destined to be with. The one that she would remain with. Forever.


	8. Ch. 7 Of Vampires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma is turned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampire smut, ahoy! If it's not your thing, feel free to skip. Nothing happens until after the first scene change.

It had been nearly a week since they’d returned to Killian’s estate after getting away from Rumplestiltskin. Emma had pretty much remained in the rooms that were prepared for her, finding plenty to keep her occupied, with computer access and a library that was unparalleled, only coming down for meals or to spend some time on the green lawns sloping down to the Atlantic. She knew that although it pained him to do so, Killian studiously avoided her presence to give her space and time to come to terms with everything that had happened and to make a fully informed and sober decision. That didn’t mean that he avoided her completely however.

The morning after they arrived back, Starkey arrived at her room with breakfast and a note written in a beautiful flowing script that she knew must belong to Killian. After he left, she helped herself to homemade French toast with scrambled eggs, bacon, and coffee and settled in to read.

_My darling Swan,_

_I hope this morning finds you well and that you had restorative and restful sleep last night._

_Please know that you may count the estate as your home away from home from this day forward and that you are welcome to explore any area. Starkey prepares all the meals and you may enjoy them in your room or any other area of the house. May I recommend breakfast on the patio where we first met? Enjoying the meal as the sun rises over the ocean is my personal favorite way to start the day. This morning’s breakfast was your sisters favorite and I hope that you enjoy it as much as they used to._

_As I said, please feel free to roam and explore anywhere on the estate. I would ask, however, that until we meet again face to face and you’ve made your decision, that you do remain on the estate for your own personal safety._

_I do not want to exert any undue influence over you or your decision, so until you seek me out, I will remain here in the house, but away from you. Physical distance doesn’t mean that I’m not here for you. You may reach me at any time with any questions or if you just want to talk by phone or text. Again, this is only until you are ready to make a decision. I will never be far, even if we are not in the same room._

_Until then, my Swan, I am forever your devoted and faithful soulmate. And you remain my dearest love._

_Your Killian_

She had to admit, she wasn’t thrilled about not being able to see him, but knowing that she could hear his voice and ask him any question about this entire bizarre situation was comforting.

Over the ensuing days, she had called him every evening, telling him about her day, hearing about his, talking long into the night. He had debunked many _myths_ , that she had just assumed were fact, about being a vampire. He also shared the logistics of becoming a vampire with her. She had asked about when he knew her in the past and about his adventures. She heard the true story of the Rumplestiltskin fairy tale and about the Blue Fairy and everything she had done to facilitate his final downfall. She was especially intrigued to hear about his history with her mother. She felt herself fall that little bit more in love with him as he told her about her earliest years and Anna and Elsa’s antics before they had moved away.

After speaking with her sisters the day before and filling them in on certain aspects of her trip to deliver the letter, she arranged for a conference call between the four of them that evening. It was a joyous and heartfelt reunion between her sisters and Killian. The love between them all was crystal clear through the line as they talked all about their growing up years and what their lives were like now. She could only hope that they would all be able to meet again in person in the near future. She knew however, that that wouldn’t be possible until Rumplestiltskin was destroyed.

Killian had shared with her in one of their evening conversations that he was hopeful that killing his sire with the dagger would not only accomplish what he intended, but also destroy the Darkness that made him what he was. If that was true, Killian, and she, if she decided to become one too, would no longer be vampires and would be able to live out their lives, their _natural_ lives, in peace. Until that happened, they decided it would be best to keep her sisters ignorant of Killian’s true nature.

But now, she was ready to inform him of her decision.

~*~*~

Killian had retired for the evening, awaiting his nightly call with Emma when he perceived soft footfalls at the other end of the hallway leading to his room. His heightened senses had been attuned to her ever since he brought her back after evading Rumplestiltskin so he had no problem hearing her from so far away. He couldn’t help the leap of joy in his heart at what this might mean.

She stopped outside the door and he could clearly hear her elevated heart rate as she took several long calming breaths before knocking.

Opening the door, Killian beheld his pale and beautiful Swan. She wore only one of his old pirate shirts, leaving little to the imagination, although it hung about halfway down her thighs. She took a deep breath and met his eyes with her own veridian orbs.

She stared at him for a long moment. He held her gaze, hoping beyond hope that she could see everything he felt for her as he allowed all his love and devotion to flood his entire being.

“I’m ready, Killian.” Her inhale that time was much more steady and a calm assurance filled her eyes that he couldn’t help but respond to. He reached out and with the gentlest of touches stroked her cheek. She leaned into the tender gesture, before turning and placing a gentle kiss to his palm. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so cared for. “I’ve thought about everything. What this means for me, for our possible future. And I’m certain of one thing,” she professed, turning her eyes upon his again. “Two things, actually,” she amended, shrugging.

“And what are those, my love,” he asked.

“That I love you. And I belong with you,” she asserted. “I think I’ve known this since the moment we met.”

“Then come with me, dearest,” he requested, as he held his hand out to her. She placed her delicate hand in his larger one and allowed him to draw her into his bedroom and into his arms. “I’ll never hurt you, my beloved,” he murmured into her hair, gathering her to him.

He could hear her heart thundering in her chest, the blood that he longed to taste on his tongue thrumming through her veins. She raised her face to his, eyes filled with love and a profound trust that made him want to weep. “I know,” she replied.

He could hold back no longer. He gathered her closer and lowered his mouth to hers. The finest wine, the most decadent morsel couldn’t begin to compare to the sweetness he savored as his tongue requested and received entrance. She shivered in his arms and placed her hand over his pounding heart, its beat so accelerated that it nearly matched a human heartbeat.

A low moan came from the back of her throat as he leisurely sipped from his love’s mouth. He could drown in her kisses, and he would die happy. Lifting her into his arms, he felt her legs wrap around his hips as he walked them to his bed. “So beautiful, my Swan,” he praised, pulling back to look in her lust glazed eyes. He felt drunk off the aroma of her blood mixed with the scent of her arousal. He lowered her to the bed and hovered over her, eyes raking over her form. She arched herself toward him and reached out to draw him down to her.

Please, Killian,” she begged.

““Patience, my l0ve,” he cajoled. “We have all night. We have _forever.”_

He lowered his face to hers and claimed her lips with all the passion that he had held back over the centuries. Hands roamed and made their way under clothing that kept their bodies shielded from one another’s eyes. When her hand wrapped around his hardness, he couldn’t hold back the moan she elicited from him as she began stroking him from base to tip. Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled deeply the fragrance of vanilla and cinnamon, along with the overwhelming redolence of the blood pulsing just below the skin. He remembered the very first time he had met Emma, how her scent nearly drove him mad with the blood frenzy. He couldn’t believe that they were finally here, after centuries of waiting. He had to be careful. Exercise perfect control over his baser instincts. What this night promised required the utmost care, the most careful execution, or all of his dreams would be reduced to ash.

Killian thrust himself into her hand, before placing a gentle kiss on her pulse point and rising above her once again. Her hands pushed his pajama bottoms over his hips, freeing his pulsing member. He stared into her emerald gaze, conveying with his eyes all the love in his heart.

He smirked at her aroused perusal of his body. Lowering himself down next to her on the bed, he began opening the buttons on the shirt she wore. He murmured endearments into her ear as he slowly made his way down her torso, revealing her creamy skin inch by glorious inch. Once he reached the end, his hand brushed her damp panties, the last piece of fabric hiding her from his sight.

“Ahhhhhh,” he cooed, “All this for me?” he inquired, dipping his long finger underneath the offending fabric and dragging it through her folds.

She moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head as she arched into his touch. “Yes, for you. All for you,” she affirmed before his lips claimed hers again. He thrust his finger into her heat, mimicking the action of his tongue. He added a second, and then a third finger when she began to ride them.

“So gorgeous, my Swan,” he murmured, watching her chase her release. Her eyes were closed, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, sweat gathering in the hollow of her collarbones. “Come for me now, my love,” he commanded, curling his fingers inside her just right as he felt her walls start trembling around them.

She came with a scream of his name, and he nearly lost himself in the rich aroma of her climax infusing her blood. Killian buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply again and felt his fangs snap into place. He pulled away from her as she came down and opened her eyes. Trepidation filled him as he knew exactly what she would see. Red pupils, fangs exposed. He wouldn’t blame her a bit if she ran away screaming. Instead he beheld a face full of wonder, awe even. She lifted a hand to his face and caressed his cheek. He couldn’t help but lean in to the simple gesture just as she had earlier.

“I love you, Killian,” she said, bringing her other hand to cup the other side of his face. “Now that we’re here, there is nothing I want more than to be with you forever.” Her green eyes bore into his until it touched the deepest part of his soul. “Make me yours. Please.”

“As you wish, sweetheart,” he breathed. “Now, you know what will happen. Are you absolutely sure you want this?”

“Yes, Killian. A thousand times, yes!”

“Then yes, Emma, I’ll make you mine.” His lips met hers again with all the renewed passion and longing that stole both of their breaths.

Holding her to him and rolling so that she straddled his hips, he never released her lips and plunged his hands into her hair, thrusting his hips into hers, creating desperately needed friction. One hand left her hair and moved with purpose toward her core where he found her still deliciously wet. She moaned into his mouth as he started to work her clit. She rose above him, giving him better access and threw her head back in ecstasy. His Swan’s long, luxurious hair brushed his thighs as he watched the flush from her cheeks reach down nearly to her breasts. He reached for one with his other hand, testing its weight, flicking her nipple until it was a sharp peak. Killian turned his attention to its twin, ratcheting up her pleasure as evidenced by the gasps and moans that poured from her lips.

Grabbing her hips with both hands, he lifted her up until she hovered over his throbbing member. Lining himself up, she looked down into his eyes as he pushed inside her heat. Twin groans escaped them as they became one.

“Gods, Emma,” he moaned, “You feel so good around me.” He thrust up into her even deeper, thrilling at the tight clench of her walls around him.

“Yes. Gods, yes, Killian,” she breathed, rolling her hips against his. Her head fell forward, her golden locks creating a curtain around them. He gazed into her eyes, pupils blown with lust and arousal, as he set an easy pace designed to slowly build the tension until they shattered in ecstasy.

“So wet, my love,” he choked out, “You fit me so well. Like you were made just for me.” After a few more thrusts, he pulled her down to him again and claimed her lips. Kissing along her jaw and down her neck, he rolled them again until she was on her back, wrapping her long legs around him.

Emma pulled him in even tighter, meeting him thrust for thrust, her passion matching his own. He could feel her walls beginning to tremble along his length, and the spike of endorphins flooding her blood. Her moans and breathy sighs told him she was close and when the throb of her walls signaling her orgasm pulled him even deeper, he sank his fangs into the vein that had been tempting him since she had stood outside his door. Her blood hit his tongue and overwhelmed his senses. She tasted of sunshine, wildflowers, spring rain, and new birth and he lost himself completely in her essence. Her climax continued along with the gasps of pleasure as he drank from her. His soulmate. His Swan. Her entire body tightened around him as he pumped furiously into her chasing his own release.

With a loud groan, his climax swept over him. He was dimly aware of the loosening of Emma’s limbs as her heartbeat began to slow. Continuing to pump into her as her heart rate slowed, he released her and raised his wrist to his mouth. The sharp sting of his fangs barely registered as his own blood began to flow. Holding his wrist to her mouth, he implored her, “Drink, Emma.”

After a few moments in which he could hardly breathe, Emma’s mouth latched onto his wrist and he felt the telltale pull of suction. After a few pulls from her, her eyes snapped open and locked on his. If he thought his connection with Emma before this was strong, there was truly no expressing in words their connection now. He could feel the gentle probing of her mind against his. He opened himself to her tentative explorations as she continued to drink from his wrist. Everything in his heart and mind was open to her. She’d be able to see all the memories as well as feel all the despair, anguish, and love that he had shared with her over the past week. The history of his family with the demon Rumplestiltskin, his love for his brother and devestation at his gruesome murder, his vow for vengence, the demon turning him into the very thing he hated, all the centuries he had waited for her, every connection, every miss, and finally the prophecy. Everything was revealed.

Killian searched her face as he waited for her eyes to open again. He could feel the intimacy of the connection in their minds confirming that she was turned and she was his. She finally released his wrist and stared into his eyes.

“It’s true. It’s all true,” she breathed. “We will defeat Rumplestiltskin. You’re the blue eyed prince and I’m the golden haired Swan. How did you know?”

“Your birthmark, Swan. And your blood.” He shrugged. “When I first met you in London, way back when, your blood called to me like nothing I’d ever known before. I wanted you more than I wanted to breathe, wanted to feed. I’d never felt a connection like that with anyone. Once I noticed the swan on your neck, I knew. It was like everything clicked. The prophecy, what it meant, how we were connected. It was also how I found you again and again, even if I was too late.”

He smiled as he saw her tongue touch her new fangs.

Delight danced in her eyes as her lips stretched into a grin. “So, I’m a vampire now?” she asked.

He couldn’t stop his chuckle. “Aye, Swan, you’re a vampire.”

“So, what do we do? Are we going after Rumplestiltskin now?”

“Not quite yet,” he said, bopping her on the nose, “We need to get you fed, then we’ll need to give you some time to adjust to this new life.” She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “I didn’t say it’d take long. But we can’t go after him half-cocked,” he quipped, thrusting into her, testing her readiness for another round as he felt himself stirring again within her depths.

“Yeah,” she gasped, meeting his hips with her own, more than ready for round two. “Half-cocked isn’t a good idea. We definitely need a plan that is ship shape before we weigh anchor.”

He buried his face into her neck again, inhaling deeply the scent of her blood, sweat, and sex. He could quite happily drown in the heady perfume of their lovemaking. His hips met hers again in a slow thrust that took both their breaths away. Continuing with slow, deep strokes, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

“Emma,” he groaned. “I love you so much. You have no idea. I’ve waited so long for you to be mine. I just can’t tell you. There are no words…” he trailed away, taking her with harder thrusts as his passion overcame his control.

His hands plunged into her golden strands and pulled her head back, giving him access to the tender skin of her neck. He placed open mouth kisses along the cords as a shuddering groan passed her lips.

“I know,” she whispered, meeting his thrusts with her own. “I love you, too.” She forced her head back up and pulled his hair back, nosing at the cords in his neck. “May I taste you again?” she murmured into his skin.

“Yes,” he moaned.

No time at all passed before he felt her fangs pierce the skin of his neck. She latched on and drank deeply as their climaxes hit simultaneously. Her fluttering walls pulled him over into unadulterated bliss that continued on and on and on. _Was this what she felt like when I fed from her?_ He pulled her leg up over his hip as he drove himself into her one more time, more deeply joined than they’d yet been.

Long moments later, he felt her release him and pull away, collapsing back onto the bed, fully sated. He looked down at his blissed out Swan with a lascivious smirk. “How about that, darling?” he drawled.

“Mmmmmm,” she hummed, contentedly, her eyes still mostly closed.

He slipped from her and rolled onto his side. Drawing her back into his arms so that every part of him was lined up with her, he nosed her hair aside and laid a tender kiss to where he had earlier drunk from her. “Sleep now, my Swan. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

Emma’s breathing evened out and she relaxed even further into his embrace. She turned her face to his and he lowered his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. “Goodnight, Killian.”

“Goodnight, my love.” She turned away and snuggled back into his arms as he fell into dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter! So you might be able to guess what's coming next! See you next week!


	9. Ch. 8 The Battle Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title kinda gives it away, I think. Rumplestiltskin finally gets what's coming to him.

The young woman with long red hair and her blonde headed companion pushed a stroller through the front door of the Como Park Zoo and Conservatory. Rumplestiltskin stood on the green lawn outside as a malevolent smile took over his face. He pulled a phone from his pocket, dialed and hissed when the call connected, “Your sister is in danger. Come home. Come alone. Or she dies.”

~*~*~

Emma was frantically throwing clothes into a suitcase when Killian came into their bedroom concerned alarm coloring his features.

“What’s going on, Emma?”

“He’s got her,” she choked out, turning back to her closet again. “I don’t even know who he has. He just said ‘your sister.’ I don’t even know who he has!” she exclaimed, turning again and throwing herself into his arms, her sobs breaking through. “Oh god, what if he has both of them?”

“Shhh, shhhh,” he crooned, stroking her back, “You’re not making any sense, love. Who has who?”

“Rumplestiltskin!” she cried, looking up at him, tears streaking down her face. “He CALLED me! How did he have my number? How did he get to her? I knew his voice! He said my sister was in danger, to come home, alone, or she dies. How did he find her? How did he know who she is? Who does he have?” She dissolved into tears again as he held her close.

“Well, you are not going alone, my love,” he asserted, vehemently. “That is absolutely not happening. He’s trying to draw you out, separate us so that we can’t destroy him. Blue can transport us to your home so that we can take him by surprise. He can’t really expect that I’d willingly let you face him alone.” He pulled back from her and cradled her face in his hands. “I’ll be right there with you, Swan,” he affirmed, “and we will defeat him.”

She smiled through her tears, eyes so full of hope that he wanted to promise her the world and everything in it. He drew her back into his arms, murmuring assurances into the crown of her head before letting her go to make preparations to leave.

~*~*~

Emma entered her childhood home, hoping against hope that she’d find one or both of her sisters inside. The churning fear in her gut since she received Rumplestiltskin’s summons had only dissipated when Killian held her in his arms. But he was now outside trying to gain some intelligence about his sire’s presence inside her home. The Blue Fairy had created a magical shield to keep his presence hidden from Rumplestiltskin until he showed himself to Emma.

Their conversation before they had left home continued to plague her mind.

_“We’ll save her, Emma. Don’t worry. She’ll be safe.”_

_“How do you know?_

_“He wants you, darling,” he promised her. “He wants to inflict as much pain on you, and me by extension, as possible. Which means that whatever he plans to do to harm her, he’ll want to do it in your presence.”_

“Anna? Elsa?” she called, “Anyone here?” She walked further into the quietness of her home until she came into the family room. What she found sent her heartbeat into overdrive.

Anna sat on the sofa, unnaturally still, eyes wide with terror, mouth open in a silent scream. Emma took a deep breath, knowing that she had to keep her head about her if they were all going to get out of here safely. She scanned over her sister for any evidence of injury beyond being frozen. Emma’s supernatural hearing could perceive Anna’s small amount of blood loss at the hands of the monster that sat reclined in the chair opposite his captive.

A rage the likes of which she had never felt before came over her before she could blink. She saw red and flew for the demon, hands outstretched and a scream like a banshee ripping out of her open mouth. Before she could reach him, however, Killian burst through the front door situated behind the chair.

Not expecting the attack on two fronts, Rumplestiltskin was momentarily startled giving Killian all the time he needed to grab the cane that he always carried when he was masquerading as a human. The creature howled with fury as he reached out for the crutch just as Emma launched herself at him and landed on his back. She grasped him around the shoulders and hauled herself up until she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. Fangs exposed she drove them into his neck as screams poured out of her prey. She continued feasting as she watched Killian attack.

Killian meantime had taken the cane and broken it over his raised knee, dissolving the glamour spell that had disguised the dagger that the Blue Fairy had made over a millennium before.

Raising it in his hand, he plunged it into Rumplestiltskin’s chest, being careful to angle it so that it wouldn’t come out his back and stab Emma who was still holding on to him for dear life as he thrashed about under their dual assault. Withdrawing the deadly implement, a dark, viscous substance poured from the hole in the creature’s chest and was drawn toward the blade. Killian felt a drag, a pull stronger than he had ever known as the same substance pulled out of himself as well. He was dimly aware of Emma releasing her victim and falling to the floor as the Darkness exited his love. His own scream of pain completely drowned out the weakening screams of their adversary and the increasingly loud keening cries coming from Anna as the enchantment holding her captive weakened.

With the pain finally subsiding and his faculties returning to him, Killian became aware of several things all at once. The Darkness drawn from the three vampires hovered over the dagger. Once emptied of the foul substance, Rumplestiltskin collapsed face down to the ground in front of him. Anna rocked back and forth on the sofa holding herself tightly as she sobbed uncontrollably, and a deathly pale Emma lay lifeless on the floor behind his sire. Rumplestilskin’s blood stained her mouth and her eyes remained open and trained on the ceiling. She had not survived the uprooting of the vile stuff that made her, made them, vampires. Killian rushed to her side and gathered her in his arms.

“No, no, no, no, nooooo!” he cried. “Not again! Please! Emma,” he begged, “don’t leave me. Please,” he cried, trying to shake her awake. “I can’t live without you, Emma. Come back to me, please…” he trailed away, tear filled eyes meeting Anna’s who still sat on the sofa, in a stupor.

“You know what you have to do, Killian,” a soft voice intoned, behind him.

He turned frantic eyes upon the Blue Fairy, who stood on the threshold.

_The Dark’s minion’s downfall is foretold_

_When True Love’s Kiss doth unfold_

_Between soulmates unbound by time_

_The blue eyed prince and his golden haired Swan_

_Their True Love will break the hold_

_And Dark magic will be no more._

The prophecy ran through his mind. True Love’s Kiss. _True Love’s Kiss._ True Love’s Kiss will destroy the Darkness! Killian looked down on his peaceful, so still Swan. Begging one last time, he whispered in her ear, “Come back to me, Swan.” His lips met hers in a cascade of rainbow light pulsing outward throughout the house. He pulled away to see the Darkness, the dagger, and even Rumplestiltskin himself dissolve in the presence of magic that was able to break any curse. The magic of True Love.

He looked down into the face of his beloved just as she began to stir. She blinked and looked up at him. “Killian!”

He couldn’t hold back his joyful grin if he tried. He hugged her tightly to himself, murmuring into her neck, “My Swan, my Swan. My darling, Swan...”

She pulled back from him before pulling him back down to capture his lips with her own in a passionate kiss that made him completely forget about their audience. Until the clearing of a throat behind him penetrated his lustful haze.

They pulled apart and looked over to where the Blue Fairy was sitting and holding Anna close, comforting her. Emma cried out and scrambled away from him to get to her sister who was starting to recover from her ordeal.

“What was THAT?!” she cried, gathering Emma in her arms. “Who… What… Uh… How?” she stammered, looking back and forth between Emma, himself, and the Blue Fairy.

After taking a few more moments to sufficiently recuperate from her shock, Anna launched herself into Killian’s arms. Her sobs renewed as her emotional pendulum swung from unbridled joy at being reunited with Killian to indignation at never knowing the truth about him. And Emma, for that matter.

Pulling back from where he finally set her down after spinning her in a bone crushing hug, she slapped his shoulder.

“How could you not tell me? Did Mom know?”

Killian chuckled with a smirk. “I think that’s a tale that’s better told over dinner and a lot of alcohol, my lamb.”

~*~*~

The Blue Fairy used her magic to resolve all the complications created by Anna’s disappearance before they reunited with the others at Elsa’s boyfriend’s restaurant.

If Anna and Killian’s reunion and the conference call they had enjoyed a month ago was thrilling, there was no measuring of the excitement when Killian and Elsa met again. He picked her up and spun her around before gathering her to him in a bear hug that was years in the making. Elsa hugged him back just as tightly.

Over the course of the evening, Killian revealed everything about the curse and how it came about, the prophecy, meeting Emma so many times over the years…

“But, wait a minute,” Anna asked, “You’ve lived three other lives, Emma? Do you remember any of them?”

Emma shrugged. “Can’t say as I do.”

They reminisced about their early years in Massachusetts before moving to Minnesota and learned about how he met Ingrid. Elsa hugged Emma close when they got to the end of the tale of destroying Rumplestiltskin and the Darkness that made them vampires.

“But how do you know,” Anna asked. “How do you know you’re no longer vampires?”

Emma and Killian turned and looked at each other. “It feels different, for one,” Emma said, still looking at Killian. “The fangs and bloodlust are gone, and my heart rate is back to normal.”

Killian continued, “That’s the biggest difference, for sure. We’d obviously gotten pretty good at controlling the thirst, in order to be around anyone else without it taking over, but the hearing and sight are also back to normal. It’s been so long for me, I could barely remember.”

“Wow,” Elsa breathed. She turned then to Killian, eyes brimming with tears before gathering him in for a hug.

“This is all fascinating and hard to believe, even with the evidence before me, but thank you for saving my family,” she whispered. “All of them.”

He pulled back from her with a bashful smile and scratched behind his ear. He was a little surprised that Anna and Elsa didn’t have nearly the problems believing him that he expected. They were very much Ingrid’s daughters.

From there, Emma and Killian returned home to Massachusetts, while Anna and her family and Elsa remained in Minnesota. Emma applied to and began law school at Harvard that fall, after a hastily put together, but still altogether beautiful wedding at their estate about a month after destroying Rumplestiltskin. Killian continued in his occupation of captaining the _Jolly Roger_ throughout the spring and summer months for pleasure cruises along the New England coastline, pirate tours, and renting out his beloved vessel for special events. Elsa won election to the mayor's office in a landslide and was sporting a 1 ½ carat diamond on her left hand that Christmas. Anna and Kristoff continued living in domestic bliss raising their little boy, before finding out they were expecting again right after Thanksgiving. The future before all of them was bright and they walked into that future hand in hand with the ones they loved beside them.

_And they all lived Happily Ever After._

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for coming on this journey with me! I hope you enjoyed the ride! Please know that every kudos and comment means the world to me and I reread them often!!! Thank you again!!!


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